This is a remake of the original story under the title "Say it Right". The remake started in 2009. It has since been written once over, but has gone through a secondary remake. This is it.

A few things have changed about the story and events—mostly ages have been heavily altered to fit a kind of depth and theme I was going for. Considering this is supposed to be during the time of kings and kingdoms, and only shortly after an empire, I decided I needed to make the world more realistic. So I went for a blend of medieval themes with some later themes from like the Renaissance. I also take liberties with the lore of FFVI and similar titles, to expand this world setting. Nothing too drastic, I think, but hopefully rewarding enough.

Characters:

Figaro family:
Royal Head of the Figaro Monarchy; Edgar Roni Figaro, Terra Madelyn Figaro (née Branford), Cambyses Damocles Figaro*, Benjamin Cornelius Figaro and Emma Aden Aria Figaro**. And at one point, a kitty named Melio.
Side branch; Sabin Rene Figaro, Karrin/Karin Figaro (née Vale), Zellum 'Zell' Enzo Figaro. Theodore 'Theo' Valerio Figaro, Ardelo 'Ardel' Durante Figaro and Cirilla Augusta Ella Figaro and Miracella 'Mira' Francesca Roma Figaro.

Cole Family:
Locke Cole, Celes Cole (née Chere), Cadence Cole and Jacen Cole.

Gabbiani Family:
Setzer Amadeo Gabbiani, Maria Gabbiani, Alexander Orazio Gabbiani, Angelo Callisto Gabbiani, and Loreto Dalmazio Gabbiani.

Arrowny Family:
Gau Arrowny, Relm Arrowny and Aria 'Arra' Arrowny.

Lastly, at the end of the story, I will present a time line (if readers want one) and will include chapters from the past, before the start of the story. That said, I hope you enjoy this work!

Had Enough
or
Heir of Figaro

Over twenty years ago, atop a tower of metal and iron, came the end of a madman who plummeted the world into darkness and death. A man whose madness drove an entire species into extinction, whose greed and bloodlust stole the safety and freedom of thousands of people. Whose end came as a chance of serenity and hope...a chance at a new beginning. Of a change that could lead them to a new age.

This is the story of the old and the new—of a revolution of life and justice.

It was sometime after noon. The sky was crystal blue, cloudless and sweet in its breath, and stretched far around tiled roofs, thin leaved trees and balm trees, over rolling dunes or patches of grassy land. The sun burned above in a radiance often described by romantics and poets. In all it was a perfect day for the people of Figaro to discuss the rumors of the Antlion Celebration—the rite of passage for young men or boys. It had been years in the waiting, with the sacredly adored Antlions hitting critical levels and preventing the hunt. A decade and a half made it possible to not only help their population but given the king and queen time to adjust traditional laws so that it prevented the killing of the creatures by placing them on a special writ.

Now the talk of the celebration came as whispers in the wind, sweeping across all of Figaro land like a fever. Men who had missed it celebrated in the streets or in the privacy of their favorite taverns or brothels. The younger men or the boys celebrated too, though thankfully for the reputation of their parents, with far more discretion for whatever it was they were doing.

The traditions of the rite of passage varied by region. In some parts of Figaro, namely the south, it was the norm for the men to brawl almost as much as they entered tourneys. It was also common for the women of the family to prepare their own meal for the Rite Dinner, where as the north and north-eastern parts of the country tended to follow a newer tradition—where the men competed in several different crafts to determine, in a blunt manner, who was more of a man. The women would do the cooking, the preparations, the planning, sewing and other things such as preparing painted shields or polishing armor or swords, all in an effort to show the men their understanding of how important the day was and honor them.

This year over one hundred youngsters would be participating, with nearly fifty adult males joining them, in the central Figaro square, just three and a half hours south of the castle grounds. It was because of this occasion that all of the academies and preparatory academies let the students go early, so that they could help prepare (in the case of the women) or practice (in the case of the men). It was because of this in particular that caused a certain confrontation between a young man and an even younger girl in the public eye of their academy.

The confrontation was about whether or not she was obligated to serve him and other men during the celebration. There was a moment of insults and then it erupted into screams and violence—mostly by the girl. It took the eldest of the three siblings to disengage the brawl. Unfortunately the young girl refused to accompany her brother anywhere, so she decided to walk home, which was not entirely sanctioned by their parents, so the eldest once again found himself involved in the conflict by walking her home so that another incident didn't occur.

The eldest of the three was a young man of twenty-three, tall and sturdily built with his father's eyes and smile but his mother's face beyond that. His golden hair, the trait of the royal family, was neatly braided down his back with a black ribbon and atop his head was the prince's crown, tinier than the king's but nearly as breath taking in its handsome shine. He was dressed just as regally as one expected a prince to be, with long smooth pants the color of midnight and a matching doublet over a smoky colored blouse. The pin of the royal family, a lion's head, was fastened over his heart. The white ruffles of the doublet neck just gently tickled his strong jawline as the wind rushed them through the wooden houses cluttering the streets of downtown Figaro.

He stood over a foot higher than the young girl beside him—nearly as tall as his father—and walked with a stride of absolute confidence and importance. If one didn't see the crown on his head or the fancy attire, they would know he was a lord of something just by the look on his desert tanned face. Though to some he walked arrogantly, as if the world revolved around him and desired the touch of his feet every moment. And the young girl beside him thought just that, rather agitated by her oldest brother and his continuous gloating over the attention of the academy and, more importantly he said, the ladies.

Each and every time he talked the ladies would swoon. The young girl didn't know what was worse; the girls or her brother. But when he lifted a hand to brush a loose lock of hair out of his eyes with the next gust of wind and asked, "Did you see my match against your preparatory class? The older classes?" she decided her brother, was in fact, worse. She had seen it and he had made a mockery out of all the younger boys, and the boy she least wanted to see get made a fool of. "What are they teaching the men over there? To dance?" he chuckled.

The girl looked at him broodingly just as the wind came and went again, blowing through her tussled hair. Unlike her brother though, the teasing wind did not irritate her. Instead of regal dresses and skirts and jewelery, the girl instead wore a shoulder blouse the color of milk under a maroon colored vest, and a knee high skirt that matched the blouse, ruffled here and there. Her feet were fit snugly into sandals, studded and beaded halfway up her shins, as the women of Thamasa wore them. Her attire was often a complaint from her parents, for they wished to see her represented to society as regally as possible. It was to avoid arguments that they conceded, though they insisted she pin the princess brooch, of a lion, made of silver and embedded with sapphires and rubies.

And where her brothers resembled one parent or another, a perfect assembly of the king and queen, the girl's face was rather dubious. She did not directly possess the soft details of her mother, such as the cheek bones or nose, or the sharp, fine features of her father, such as the long, Figaro nose or the strong jawline that was said to have bred the most beautiful woman in the world, the king's grandmother. No, instead of a mixture of the two, her face was a strange place between a pudgy (her mother promised it was baby fat) round and oval shape, with a small nose and delicate chin. Her eyes were even more a spectacle, deep set and a rare combination of her father's deep blue eyes and her mother's lilac eyes, as if purple gave way to blue nearer the pupil.

The girl had many things to dislike about herself, but perhaps the worst among them was how her ears were longer and more pointed than the normal person, and how her teeth looked more animal fangs than normal teeth. If she could change just those two things, she would be happy with her face, with the reality of not looking like her mother or father. She would give it and so much more just to avoid the slurs and chuckles and bullying and strange looks.

Her mind was so heavily distracted that she hadn't heard her brother calling to her, until she felt a smart swat on the back of her head. She yelped. "Are you even listening to me?" her brother furrowed his brows at her. With a puff of annoyance, she struggled to readjust the large volume of literature in her arms. The books towered so high she could scarcely see over them. She quietly contemplated the mistake she made accepting her brothers books even as a token of appreciation for him walking her home. In the end, she decided carrying them and having stiff, sore arms later would be better than sitting in the back of the royal carriage listening to her other brother demand she attend him 'as she should'.

"What are you even spacing out about now?" he asked with a shake of his head. A gentle shade grew on her cheeks and she ducked her eyes, as an indication to continue with whatever it was he was trying to say. He grumbled a bit before he continued on. "And did you see? I planted that boy on his back nearly ten times, in a row. It was as if he couldn't learn from his mistakes." laughter crept from his lips that stung her heart. He was laughing at the expense of her crush. Where did her brother get the right to call someone else a boy when they were same age, anyway? He changed the subject quickly. "Did you hear the recital of the Final Battle today?" he didn't wait for her answer. "They actually called me into their classroom to recite it."

She got an 'ah' out before he rushed on. "It isn't like I mind, so don't think I'm complaining. I mean, who would turn away such an honor? Though I could scarcely move without a lady pining for me bumping into me by 'accident'. That was a little much." Though his words painted a pretty picture of annoyance, he sounded more than happy to continue to receive the attention.

He acts like it is something so grand... "You should turn that honor away." she had whispered it, and he just barely heard. He took her arm sharply and stopped her.

"What did you just say? You should speak up so the people you are mumbling about can hear you." he smacked the back of her head with just enough force for her to feel, though it was still too much for her, as she vaulted forward a foot or so. She quickly tried to rebalance the books, flesh pale. "Go on then, little cub, what did you say?"

She adverted her eyes. "I...I didn't say anything..."

"What kind of lion trembles like this?" he asked, brows furrowing. He scoffed. "If you got to stand and listen to the tales of our parents, of their tough, bloody battles, maybe you wouldn't be so dimwitted about it, or maybe you wouldn't be so docile when the other students pick on you."

"I've heard them!" she said loudly as they descended a slope of grass into the heart of the inner city of the castle. The castle itself stood in the horizon with its sharp shapes and dark color. Pennants, with the colors the only part visible to them just yet, twisted wildly in the wind atop the watch towers. "I just like it m-more when we hear about their words."

He corked a brow at her with a cocky smile. A mocking one. "You mean when they discuss their—" he placed his hand over his heart dramatically. "—feelings?" she did not catch his tone though and nodded vigorously. "Well, well, aren't you precious?" he reached over to pinch her cheeks and with no where to go, she fell prey to it easily. "You think feelings and words are the important part of the battle?" he laughed. "Was it words that felled Kefka? Did their feelings weaken the tyrant's blows? Lessen the blood shed? No. It was their raw strength, magical or not, that put an end to that monstrosity. Not some suckling babe crying about how he feels."

"Relm said that they all had something to say that—" she tried, but he cut her off.

"I don't care what she said," his words were sharp. "It was physical strength that won the fight and it is physical strength that matters, because physical strength brought them pain, not words! Or would you compare the welts and scars uncle has to an insult? Don't be so stupid."

"Pain can be conceived through e-emotion too, and Levos le Havoc of ancient Doma said that emotion breeds epics, not—"

"Enough with the 'he-she said' crap!" he planted hands over his ears to show her just how little he liked the discussion. It was rather childish, but she knew why he was doing it—she often did the same. That made her cheeks pink. He was once again mocking her.

"Stop it!" she snapped, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "You're j-j-just mad I'm right!"

He removed his hands and started to laugh. "You? Right?" his laughter grew, until tears sprinkled his eyes. "O' Gods, that's just perfect!"

"Shut up!"

"Haven't you ever wondered why poets and scholars who preach that garbage have all vanished, were killed or forgotten?" she glared, very angry. "It is because they were nitwits who faced down their enemies with words. What worth was their word when a sword was put through their gut? Their heads cut off? Hmm? This Levos le Havoc you admire so much is no different than the rest—long since a pile of bone ash—and you would do yourself a favor to finally realize it, baby sister. If you start being normal now, perhaps you could be surrounded by boys who want you. Who knows, maybe you would get as many admirers as I do."

Her anger was touched. "You think way too much of yourself!"

He stopped her again, this time by digging his fingers into her shoulder and forcing her to turn to face him. He knelt so he could look at her eyes. "Excuse me?" she tried to hold his eyes but quickly looked away. "Are you saying that I am selfish? Is that it?" her quiet was as much as a confirmation as words. He scoffed. "Is that why I decided to walk you home, after you started a scene, instead of enjoying a cool, refreshing drive back with the only other sibling who isn't a complete fool sometimes?" She wanted to say that just because he sometimes did things that weren't entirely selfish, it didn't mean he wasn't selfish. She knew he was walking her home so that their parents wouldn't bicker at him, not because he worried for her. She would never say this to him, she knew. "Silence? I can't say that I am surprised, to be honest. Little Aden likes to show her stupidity quite often."

She jerked out of his hands, jostling the books, with a face as red as the burning sun. "My name is—is Emma!"

A smirk graced his face. She knew he thought he won some battle she wasn't even aware had started. "Alright then...c-c-c-c-calm down A-a-a-a-den."

She let her tears flow, too angry to hold them. "Emma! Emma!"

"Why should I call you that when I do not get the same respect? My name isn't Cambyses, a rather simple to pronounce name even, and yet you stammer about my name as 'Camb'. Besides, at least 'Aden' really is your given name."

Her face was boiling now and it looked like she was going to throw a fit. She stamped a foot onto his dress shoes so hard that his face turned white and he screamed so loud that the birds escaped the nearby trees in a thunderous cry. While he crouched in near tears she took off running, the books jostling about in her weak arms from the unstable posture and speed. She glanced back long enough to see that his long legs were carrying him far and quickly. She gasped and turned her attention back to the road. If he caught her he would certainly clout her!

What did I do? What did I do? she thought frantically.

Her breath was already labored and her forehead was drenched in sweat, but she pushed herself even further, the sandals making a sharp slap as she went down the dirt road. Her brother was close enough that she could hear his dress shoes. "Get back here!" he howled after her and she sucked in a breath. She swore she could feel him just an inch behind. For a split moment she looked behind her to see where he was and went tumbling over her own foot, landing chest and face first into the dirt and pebbles. The books were sent flying everywhere, some snapping at the spines from the impact. A perfectly comical cloud of dirt flew up around her, causing her to sneeze about helplessly.

By the time her brother caught up, breath only slightly labored in comparison to her near wheezing, she was up on her knees crying. Blood was dripping steadily from a tear on her lip onto her open palms. Her skirt was torn where her knees had come down on the fabric against the dirt and pebbles while her palms were scrapped from where she tried to land on them. Her face was covered so completely in dirt that her skin looked more yellow than anyone could naturally look. The tears made clean streams down her face.

When he stopped beside her, hand raise to clout her, he stopped immediately. He lowered his hand and knelt. "Why can't you just be normal for one day? Tripping over yourself is just..." he stopped himself when she sniffled and rubbed a bloodied palm across her cheek, smearing blood and dirt. He dug through his doublet pocket for a spare handkerchief and held it out to her. "...you have to admit though that tripping over your own feet is priceless." he laughed heartily but once again stopped when he saw the tears worsen. "Come on, don't be a child. Give me your hand." he rose and accepted her tiny hand as she held the handkerchief against her lip with the other.

"It...it isn't f-f-funny."

"It's pretty funny," he replied with a snort. "To think that uncle would have taught you to walk first instead of how to defend yourself." furiously she shoved him with both hands, getting bloody hand prints on the abdomen part of his doublet. He practically shrieked. "Hey! This is expensive, you little idiot!"

"You're...you're a m-m-moron and—" at this part her expression shifted into anger, but he could only laugh and laugh. She hadn't noticed the soldiers approaching from behind her, not over her own voice and through the narrowed lens of her anger. But he had straightened up and put on a face that truly looked like their father. "—stop laughing you stupid child!"

"Ahem." She twirled around and gasped at the three soldiers. She messily curtsied and then remembered that her hands were bloody, so she let her skirt go and became appalled at how much worse she had made it in her absence of thought. The captain of the group paid her fussing about her appearance none of his attention as he addressed the prince. "My prince, there is a carriage up ahead waiting for you."

"How did you know we were coming?"

"Your brother arrived and stated we should be at your ready here," he simply explained, finally glancing over at the princess who was trying to clean up her dirty face. "Your parents wish for your audience as well, my princess." she looked up sharply at that, shocked. "Best we should hurry, before it gets too late. Shall we turn the carriage around for you two?"

Cambyses shook his head. "No, no, that would be too much effort we don't have time for. We shall be there in a minute." as the soldiers started walking up the twisted road, he turned to his sister. "Hurry along with your books, would you?" he patted her back, jolting her forward and onto her knees, before he started running after the soldiers.

"Wait!—" she got to her feet hurriedly. "—Why don't you..." he disappeared around the bend into the town and she stopped. "...help me." deciding not to waste time, she went about collecting the books and the loose pages of those that suffered severely. She would have to spend her night gluing them back into the book, or else pocket out the gil for replacements.

When she finished, the tower of books was in her arms once more, she went her way around the bend, spotting the carriage. She smiled and carefully moved toward them, but about ten feet away it started pulling away. She gave a loud cry and started running after them. "Wait!" she shouted, unable to wave her arms to gain their attention. "Wait! Wait for me! Wa—" and then she tumbled over her feet again and dropped the books. She looked up and they were gone.

••••••••••••

Cambyses just had to rush home. As soon as he was seated in the carriage, the captain explained to him that the Antlion celebration was definitely on. He couldn't say how he knew—though he suggested his information came directly from the queen's loose tongue—Cambyses knew he had to get home quickly to question his father, perhaps even suck up if he had to.

When he asked the captain to go on, the man turned toward him and asked about his sister. Cambyses looked out the back window for her and saw that she was still picking up the books. At her pace it would take hours! So he had explained his sister was capable of walking an hour's length by herself within the inner walls, and so they were off.

He felt guilty when they pulled into the cobblestone pathway outside of the eastern gate but when he caught wind of his excitement again he forgot his guilt to seek out his parents. They were sitting in the main room of the great hall, around a table drinking fine wine and enjoying thin cheese over crackers. Benjamin was nowhere to be seen but he suspected that his younger brother had already talked to them about the events at the academy and if he didn't? Well Cambyses didn't want to infuriate them just in case the two withheld the celebration as punishment for picking on their sister.

They saw him and motioned him over. He took a spot between them and took a cup of fresh tea off the table. "Captain Abod said there are rumors going around that the celebration is happening soon." he waited to see their expression; they were still. He had to dig deeper. "I heard some of my classmates talking about the events already being prepared further south."

Edgar laughed. "You know very well that the celebration will begin soon enough. Do you really wish to pester us on our free evening about it?"

"Father, please, I have been waiting for so long. Isn't there something you can tell me now, ahead of the annual dinner?"

His father exchanged looks with his wife quickly before he sighed. "Fine. I will be making an announcement during the annual dinner, but beyond that you will need to wait like the rest of the riteless boys and men, is that clear?" that was more than enough for him. He smirked as he drank his tea.

••••••••••••

By the time Emma was admitted through the eastern gate into the castle grounds, which remained closed to civilians unless there was a moot or whatnot, the sun was hanging low in the sky, scorching and burning the sky into a pale orange with pink arising from the horizon. The books felt even heavier and she nearly collapsed in pure exhaustion by the gate if it wasn't for the fact that the soldiers walking the parapets could see. The last thing she wanted was to look even worse in the eyes of her people.

With a stubborn puff of breath she lifted the tower up higher, bent backwards just a bit and started walking up the pure stone walkways towards the eastern entrance, now surrounded by a dozen or so soldiers at rest. They were sitting around a stone table, under a pale blue umbrella with little lions running a circle painted on it, drinking iced tea and laughing. She approached tiredly and sat the collection on the end of the table and used the moment to wipe sweat from her brow. Her lip was dried with blood and hurt when she rubbed it, releasing fresh blood from the pressure. It dripped down onto the table and her dress in the process, finally catching the interest of one of the men at the table—though for the wrong reasons.

"Excuse me princess, but you are bleeding all over the table..."

She looked up from her now stained white blouse to face him with an expression of confusion. He pointed at the blood drops, as if expecting something, and she frowned. He wanted her to clean it? That nipped at her anger so thoroughly she gave him a nasty expression...well, as nasty as she could get it. It only caused the table to erupt in laughter. The soldier that had suggested her to clean up her mess was hooting louder than the rest of them, for her angriest expression was often more adorable than nasty. "Well, well...with that bloody face you almost pull off the glare." it was then that she realized it was captain Abod, the man who had picked her brothers up.

Now she had it! "You left me back there!"

His expression instantly paled and he looked around nervously, small laughter escaping his lips, until he saw that his comrades were not laughing. "I...I didn't leave you back there. Your brother did, princess."

"You were driving the c-c-c-carriage!"

"Aye, but he ordered me to go and..." he paused. "It doesn't matter now. Here, let me help you with that," he reached for the books after he stood but she smacked his hands away. He was so startled he tumbled into his chair, jostling the table and causing the iced tea to pour down the side of his armor and clothing. He yelped and then took her by the arm. "That is it young lady! I'm taking you to your parents!"

She started tugging her arm away as the men begun laughing again, though this time she suspected it was toward Abod and not her. "Let me go! Let me go now!" he let her arm go at that and glared. "You're...you're lucky I don't t-t-tell my pa-parents that you left me!"

"But you wanted to walk home anyway and—" he never got to finished because she kicked him so hard between his legs that he couldn't breathe. He fell to his knees and the others gathered around him as she took her books and fled.

Emma had wanted to escape to her room to freshen up before anyone, particularly her parents, saw her but as soon as she passed the foyer the headmaid of the castle caught her by the arm. "Princess! By Gods what happened to you?" it was Rosalee, a woman in her late fifties but still quite beautiful and youthful looking. She had been at the castle for nearly thirty years, apparently. The maid then took her face promptly. "What happened to your face? Did those kids pick on you again?!"

"Rosalee, p-please," she struggled out of the woman's iron-like grasp as she glanced around for anyone who might have heard the woman. "I fell, that's—that's all, please don't make it a pr-problem."

"You best not be lying to me, girl. You know your papa said you mustn't ever lie to me, remember? Now was this because of the kids or not?"

She shook her head. "It—it wasn't, really. I fell carrying these," she shifted the books around. "Do you know if—if mother and father are in the main room?"

"No, they are in the solar," she said, accepting what she was told and not realizing Emma was used to the solar being called the main room. "and they told me to send you to them as soon as you showed your face."

"But I have to get freshened up and...and..." she could see by the gleam in the maid's eyes that she was not going to take 'no' as an answer. She sighed. "Okay..." she waited until Rosalee disappeared into the foyer with a duster before she built up the courage to face her parents in the condition she was in. She used the books to push the door open. The room was well lit and smelled heavily of fresh bread and tea. She peaked around the books and saw her parents sitting with Cambyses. Fury swept through her upon seeing him.

How dare he just leave behind like that with his things! She stomped toward them, alerting them to her presence. Terra's eyes went wide as she hurried to her feet to fuss about her baby. Emma struggled to hold the books under the thorough checking and then to her complete horror, her mother wet a handkerchief with her tongue to clean her face up. Cambyses started laughing. "Mother, I'm fine! Really!"

"What happened to you? Oh, and you ruined your clothes! And that cut will have to be cleaned thoroughly twice a day, do you hear me?"

"She tripped over her own feet," Cambyses answered through a snort of laughter.

Emma shouted, "Shut up Camb!" before she looked at her mother shamefully. "I tripped..."

Terra shook her head and took her daughter by the cheeks and then planted a motherly kiss on the center of her forehead. "You will be the death of me one day, dear girl. What have I told you about being careful, about running? You could have broken your neck."

Over Cambyses' giggling, Edgar said, "Son, behave around your sister." that shut him up. He looked at his daughter, lying his paper down on the table and looking at her through his reading glasses. "Sweet girl, why are you so late? You know the curfew hours for after school."

She thought on the answer. If she told him that she was carrying her brother's books, which made it difficult to get home quickly, he would get upset at her brother and then her brother would take it out on her. But then again she knew she couldn't lie because they could easily see she was carrying more books than she left with that morning. So she thought of the best way to present it to help spare her brother. "Well..." Cambyses' eyes were on her and she faltered. "I...I dropped our...our books and..."

Edgar's eyes instantly went to his son. "You made your baby sister carry your books?"

"What? No! She offered to carry them, honestly father. Tell them Emma!"

"I...I did father, really."

"I do not care," Edgar said sharply, standing. He gestured for her to come closer and so she escaped her mother's hold to stand before her father, eyes downcast. "You are supposed to be a gentleman and offer to carry her things, son. What's more, you should have acted like an older brother and took her books, or had you forgotten about her condition?" her brother had no answers, just glares. Edgar took the books from her arms, all of them, and then held them out to his son. "I think it is only fair you carry her things to her room as she had for you coming home, don't you agree?" A humiliated blush crossed his face. He accepted the books quietly and then shrugged by his sister to head up the stairs.

Sensing she was going to regret it, she looked at her father shyly. "It wasn't a problem father...I'm used to c-c-carrying others' books." that made her father gasp.

"Emma, my darling little girl," he lifted her face up, so that he could see the wound and dirt on her face. "You should not allow others to treat you like a pack mule. If you do they will only ever walk over you. What were you thinking?"

"I...I was just..."

Terra swooped to her side immediately. "Edgar, shush." there was a hard warning to her tone and glance. "You are scaring her senseless." she looked at her daughter and brushed loose locks of hair out of her face. "Why don't you go get cleaned up, dear? And fetch your brother, when you see him, and then come right back here."

"Yes, mother," she hugged her quickly and then ran for the stairs. The patter of her sandals made her father smile. When they were alone, Edgar sighed.

"Whatever will we do with her?"

Terra rolled her eyes and leaned over to take his arm. "Oh Edgar...give her some time. She has only been here for a few months. You can't expect her to adjust without a struggle."

Upstairs Emma nearly collided into her second brother. He reached out to straighten her on her feet and laughed at the condition she was in. "Were you run over by a carriage?" her second brother looked so much like their mother it was almost startling. He had their father's hair and eye color, but the near identical facial structure of their mother. He was only four years younger than Camb, but still managed to become one of the best new fighters in the kingdom, and was extremely intelligent. He dressed in a way that was neither regal or common, as if he just dug through his chest of clothing for whatever he could find.

She tugged free of his hold. "No! I just...tripped."

He laughed. "Really? That must have been quite a fall...say, where is Camb?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but father and mother want you in the main room." she lifted a hand to rub against her nose to stifle back a sneeze.

"Oh, alright. You should get cleaned." he patted her shoulder and darted down the stairs. She mumbled under her breath over his comments before heading to her room. When she pushed the door open Cambyses rushed out, nearly toppling her over in his effort to get away. He was so angry he didn't even glare at her. She watched him descend the stairs before she looked into her room suspiciously. She looked up through the door, to make sure a bucket wasn't waiting for her, and then hurried in.

She inspected her room further for any traps or tricks, and then came across where her brother had left her part of the books. On her Thamasan silks. She gasped and picked the books up to clear away the dirt. Once she had it cleaned she furiously locked her door to keep her pesky brothers out and then went into the basin room.

She stripped out of her cloths and glanced at herself in her full body mirror. Her knees took a beating on her fall and were raw and slightly bleeding here and there. She turned and took her bath, which ran from the pipes hot thanks to her father's invention. She scrubbed and scrubbed until it hurt, and then as she dried in her towel she took to cleaning out her injuries.

They stung something fierce and when she cleaned the gash on her lip she bite down her tongue to keep from screaming. Tears bubbled in her eyes and she knuckled them away, waiting for the sting to weaken. And then, once satisfied she cleaned it to her mother's acceptance, she hurried into her room to get her clothes out of the chest at the end of her bed. She tore through it until she found her shaggy shorts and matching tunic, all the shades of green on ferns and pale pink roses. It was a gift from Relm and Gau before she departed the islands to head home.

Now she stood before the mirror again fully dressed and smiled at her reflection, feeling proud when normally she wouldn't. She thought she was growing quite nicely ever since moving to Figaro. She associated it to the sun of the desert and the gross 'healthy' food her parents shoved down her throat moreso than her guardians back at Thamasa. She tippy toed to see how tall she could get and how she would look at that height and giggled at the strangeness of it. If she stood that high she wouldn't be considered a midget. She dropped back to her feet and decided then she would grow an inch a year!

Rapid knocking on the door alerted her to how late it was. "Princess Emma? Your parents are waiting for you." it was Rosalee. Emma dashed across the room and opened the door. Rosalee was already walking down the other side of the hall, so Emma could not thank her, so she hurried back to the main room.

This time both her brothers were sitting about, drinking and laughing over something they went quiet about as soon as she came in smiling and asking, "What's so funny?" by the way her mother giggled and her father turned white she guessed it was something adult she "wasn't supposed to hear yet!". As she approached, intending to sit near her mother, her father got up and ushered her over. She shyly went to him, afraid for some unknown reason.

He took her by the hands and then made her look at him. A smile spread across his father. "That's more like my beautiful daughter." he kissed her head and pointed her back to her seat as her brothers giggled like schoolgirls. She was blushing. She hated their teasing! Her mother wrapped an arm around her as soon as she was seated and pulled her close against her bosom. "Now that all of my children are cleaned and present," he looked at Emma and she shrunk lower in her seat. "I would like to remind you all that my annual dinner this year is the most important yet. I want you all to be thoroughly cleaned and behaved that day."

"I'll be clean father, I promise." Benjamin said jokingly, knowing full well Emma was being directed. "Can we go now?"

Edgar pressed on as if his son hadn't spoke. "This will be your chance to meet your cousins, Emma. They are fine young men, much like Sabin, and you adore him, don't you?" she thought much of Sabin lately. He was a great uncle, and an even greater man. He was friendly and sweet, and as handsome as any one could be...plus whenever he was at the island to train her he would swoop her off her feet when she was a child and acted like she was on an airship. He never teased her like her brothers or made suggestions of improvement outside of her training, and he always smiled and called her 'little doe'.

And now she would get to meet her cousins, after years and years of wondering what they looked like and who they were. She heard so much about them from her uncle and his wife, that they were excellent monks and amazing fishers, but most of all that they were absolutely sweet. And she couldn't doubt that, given how lovely their parents were to her. It all almost made her years of life on Thamasa worth it. She had been told before that the reason she was in Thamasa was because it was a place of clean breezes and light activity and a not-too-hot temperature. Apparently she was supposed to get better there, but never did. It took them many, many years to accept her for her afflictions.

She hated being sick with the Sand Fever.

She looked at her father with a smile. "Yes, father, I do."

"Suck up," Benjamin coughed, earning a 'be quiet young man!' from their mother.

"Good to hear, m'dear. That is all, you are dismissed if you wish to go." he relaxed into the comfort of his sofa with a small sigh. Benjamin hooted and was off once again up the stairs. Emma was still thinking over something so she remained—plus her mother had an iron grip on her. Her brother hesitated before clearing his throat.

"Father...I understand you can't say when or much about it, and I know you already gave me an answer you felt you shouldn't but...can you at least tell me if the celebration is within the next few months?"

Edgar shook his head. "You possess very little patience, son." he rubbed at his eyes, tired. "But if it will get you off my back and it will give you a chance to learn patience...yes, it will be within the next few months at the least. Now is that all?" Terra giggled at his exaggerated exhaustion and then his son smiled, thanked him and then took off much like his brother.

Emma was done thinking. Her brother's question lit one of her own. She looked at her father with curious eyes and leaned out of her mother's semi-hug. "Father?" he opened one eye to look at her through his glasses. "Is there a female eq...eqev...equivalent of the Antlion celebration?" he sputtered and turned bright red. He hurried to his feet and adjusted his surcoat, flustered, which his wife found extremely amusing, while their daughter found it confusing.

"Well, I, err—Terra?—no, there isn't."

Her brows furrowed in even greater confusion. "Then how do I become a woman in ac-accordance to Figaro traditions?"

"Terra!" he cried, adjusting his surcoat once more, nearly choking himself in the process. "I do believe I must see Suon." and then he briskly fled the room, glancing over his shoulder once before picking up his pace. Terra started laughing.

Emma looked at her mother with round eyes. "Did I say something wrong?"

She stopped laughing and took her daughter's tiny hands in hers. "No, no, of course not sweety...your father would just rather not discuss this."

"Why?"

"Because.." she faltered but then took a breath. She knew for a fact her daughter hadn't be given 'the talk' and didn't know if it was time yet, given how delicate the girl and the situation was. "...for right now you don't need to know."

"But mother—"

"—Now Emma, I made a choice...you aren't old enough to be a woman according to Figaro so you don't need to know just yet."

"What about Thamasa then?" she prompted. "Can I know that?"

Terra smiled. Her daughter was truly a delightful and persistent young lady. "I made myself clear Emma, you will do well to listen to me." she kissed her daughter's head. "Now head to your room and study. You know how your father gets if you do not set aside an hour at least to read or study every day."

She did as she was told with a prompt 'yes mother'. As soon as she was out of sight, Terra immediately regretted not talking to her it.

••••••••••••

The next morning, hot and sunny without a single cloud in the sky, Emma was made by her parents to arrive at school in the shadiest and most cool method they had, an air cooled carriage—a new prototype by her father. Emma was certainly chilled, enough to make her teeth chatter and flesh have goose bumps, but thankfully in the carriage they arrived at the Sunset Academy—a preparatory school and sister to Golden Lion where her brothers attended—fairly quickly.

The building itself was made of pale red stones and tiles of dark brown on the roof, an opposite to Golden Lion's silver stone and golden tiles and beautiful statues. The yard was evenly divided between its older brother just a four minute walk away, though most its yard use was given to gardens and track, whereas Golden Lion used its yard to set up many different kinds of physical education. Two bushes, as tall as the front entrance, stood beside the door, cut into the fashion of a sun to the left and a lion on its hindlegs to the right.

The carriage pulled into a wide brick road, before a board that said 'Figaro District Preparatory School'. Emma looked at the building in contempt. The windows were tall and narrow, and closed off by iron bars, as if it were a prison or asylum and what was worse, the curricula was absolutely weak! She hoped she was not the only one who thought she was being held against her will at this school.

The driver of the carriage looked back at her. It was captain Jakle, another new face but apparently well equipped to at least drive a princess to her prison due to a weakly detailed confrontation with Abod. He smiled. "Would you like me to help you carry your things in?"

She smiled back at him. Maybe he wasn't going to be a problem. "No thank you, ser, I can handle it." he chuckled and exited the carriage to open the door for her.

"In that case, your mother said to give this to you." he held out a smaller tin box. Emma gasped and tore it out of his hands to hide. "Is something wrong, princess?" he asked as he closed the door behind her. She glanced down at the tin before looking around, to make sure someone didn't notice. How could her mother do this? How many times had Emma pleaded with her to stop making her lunch? "Princess?" Jakle pressed. "Are you well?"

"I'm—I'm fine," hastily she hid the tin behind the books. "Will...will you be here later?"

"When you are out of classes? Yes, princess, I am instructed to stay here until your day is over." he said it as if it didn't bother him one bit. Emma looked him in the eyes, as if she could catch his true feelings on the matter, but only saw honesty. He doesn't really mind? She thought. She found it comforting. She thanked him with a nod before hurrying up the stairs into the academy.

The halls to the school were long and dimly lit until much later into the day. There was a door on each side of the wall, leading to different classrooms, rest rooms and educational theaters (she wasn't allowed in there by express word of her parents, so she wasn't even sure what occurred in there). A second story brought the older classmates, nearly ready to transition to Golden Lion, to much of the same, just with advanced curricula. She quietly walked the halls, keeping her ears out for any sounds of other students, until she arrived at the main office to sign into the records.

She spent much of the morning doing her classes without so much as a peep from other students or even the professors, but eventually as noon rolled in and the bell tower rang with warning to rest class, her day turned sour. She was on her way to the seating area outside when a group of boys, a year older at most, started a friendly brawl near the track field. She slipped away from them swiftly, knowing their troubles would soon be troubles for all around them, and took her seclusion atop a hill overlooking the Sunset yard.

It was here where she ate her meals away from others, or even took to studying or just reading. No one usually bothered her so high up, finding the way out not worth their hour of rest, so it was perfect for her. She sat aside her books and opened the tin her mother prepared for her. Inside was an apple, a tiny sealed bowl of raisins, a dish of brown rice with chunks of chicken (now cold) mixed in and two cookies. A note was tapped to the top stating 'Have a great day, my dear baby'. She smiled and thanked her mother mentally before she ate the cookies first. Next she dug out the chicken pieces and finished off the raisins, all the while reading 'The Biography of Fyodor Savoski by Alvador Kevkis'.

She was so enthralled by the biography that she hadn't noticed a group of boys heading toward her. Who could be paying attention when the held such history in their hands? Certainly not her! She was just getting to a part illustrating the struggles Fyodor experienced as a child with his four siblings when the boys' shadows loomed over her, blocking out the lovely sunlight.

"What do we have here?" She looked up at the boy talking. He was a boy three years older than her, with shaggy hair the color of washed out dirt and eyes of green. His name was Kysle D'etello, bastard son of a well known Lord of Albrook (where it was common for men and women to sire bastards without shame casted upon them). Beside him were his two closest friends, Coslun Adosa and Retlen Navark, an exchange student from some golden city south of the desert palaces of the Veldt. "What's this? Lunch from mommy dearest?" he swiped the apple out of the tin, very much aware of the fact that she was not going to stop him. He bit into the apple, spat out the chunk in disgust and then tossed the apple over his shoulder. "Next time tell your mother to pack something good."

She faltered under his stare. "She didn't pack this for me..."

At that he ripped the tin out of her hands, laughing when she tried to hold it. "She didn't? Then who wrote this?" he showed his friends the note and they all shared a mighty laugh over it. He then duped the contents out into the grass. Emma tried to stop him but he shot her an angry look and then shoved the empty tin back into her arms. "Next time I better see that tin before you take a sniff of it, do you hear me?"

She looked at the rice spilled in the grass with short anger. How long had her mother worked to create that lunch for her? Now it was discarded like garbage. And for what? Why did Kysle pick on her? What did she do in her six months of knowing him? She only ever remembered trying to be friendly to him and his stupid friends. She lowered her head in acknowledgement of his demands and waited for them to leave, but they did not.

Coslun leaned down to pick up the book she had been reading. "What are you reading this crap for?"

"That's on the assignment board for this week," Retlen said, almost nervously. He had moved into the academy two months after Emma arrived herself, so she understood he was still in the 'freshman' stage—far more fragile than her 'freak' stage. As a southern Veldt native, he had dark skin and beautiful brown eyes, which now mirrored the nervousness in his voice. There were some people who saw him as an outsider and hated him for it, and others who hated him for the way he looked. In many ways, they were the same. "We are supposed to be reading it." he spoke with great difficulty, as if he was trying to remember the language he was supposed to be using around them.

Coslun laughed. "Then maybe we should do the assignment, right Ky?" he handed the book over so it could be inspected.

The boy in question knelt to look Emma in the eyes. "Emma here will help us out, won't you?" he dropped the book into her lap. "I mean...it is the least you can do, right?" She looked down at the cover of the book, leathered and older than even her brothers. Fyodor had experience with people like this, and how did he handle it? With resistance and courage. She had neither. She grew up understanding that both of those things got you in trouble, one way or another, sometimes even worse than just letting the bad happen. "She'll do whatever we tell her to, like a good little dog. Right?" The words stung her more than she was willing to ever admit to people. She didn't care if Cambyses thought words or emotions weren't as powerful as physical or metaphysical strength...to her it was. She would take shoving, kicking and punching over the words people used against her. So long as she didn't have to hear 'freak' or 'bastard' or 'goblin' or 'ugly' ever again. "I said 'right'?!"

She looked at him. "The pro-professors will know if I w-write your assignments..."

"Then you will just have to be extra convincing about it, won't you?"

She knew she wouldn't be able to do that and that as soon as the professors found out, she would crack under their pressure and spill everything. It would mean her parents getting involved and then finding out what was happening. She couldn't have that! She shook her head. "No...I won't do it."

Kysle's eyes went wide. "What did you just say, you little freak?"

"I...I said no!"

His reaction was certainly expected of him, of the situation, but it still surprised her none the less that he would shove her into the grass where other students, even professors, could see. Her head hit the grass with a soft thump. "Wrong answer!" he pressed a dirty boot on her outstretched arm and twisted just enough to hurt. She gave a stifled cry. "Is your answer still no?" he twisted harder when she kept her mouth shut. "Well?!"

"What the hell are you doing?" The boys turned to see Cambyses and Benjamin striding toward them, chests slightly labored from the physical activity they had completed just minutes prior. Kysle quickly removed his foot and stepped back with his head bowed. Benjamin went to help Emma up as Camb came to stand before the three boys. "Answer me!"

He looked away. "We were just messing around with your sister, your majesty, that's all."

"Do you know what I did to the last person who thought he could shove my sister into the dirt?" Cambyses asked, ignoring the boy's explanation as he approached the boy. Retlan and Coslun quieted and stepped away. "I made the use of his arms a dream."

"I'm...I'm sorry, your majesty. It won't happen again."

"It better not," he snapped. "Ben?" he looked at his brother, who stood. "What do you think? Should we let them off with just a warning this time?"

"We will just have to beat a bit more sense into them on the platforms today," Benjamin said, eyes dark with rage as he faced the boys. "Now get out of our sight." they scurried off frantically. Ben looked down at his sister. "Why didn't you stand up for yourself, Emma?"

"She's too afraid to," Cambyses said with a shake of his head, shamed.

Emma found her voice, hands tight on the book she had been reading. "I...I didn't want to start anything, that's all."

"Start anything?" her eldest brother prompted. "It already started and you just sat there like some moon brained fool."

"Cambyses, enough man," Benjamin muttered, reaching out to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Emma isn't like us...just leave it be."

Emma watched the shame in her brother's eyes evaporate into pity. He nodded. "You're right...forget it Emma. Just try not to be someplace where they can see you in your spare time. That should keep them from bothering you too much." he dropped a small leather bag by her. "Don't let mother know you didn't eat or she will have all of our hides." and then he and Benjamin walked away, back toward the training platforms west of her.

Emma opened the bag and found her brother's lunch inside. She smiled and looked up to watch them descend the hill. "Thank you..." she whispered aloud.

The rest of the day was pleasant enough for her. Kysle and his friends engaged her once more before disappearing for the remainder of the day. He had walked up to her and said, "You will pay for what happened." before walking away. She sat in her classes afraid of some horrible prank until the bells in the towers rung and she was outside the academy, still safe. She supposed he chickened out and went to meet up with captain Jakle.

He got out to open the door for her, despite her saying he didn't have to. "Nonsense, princess. A gentleman always opens the door for a lady. Watch your step, please." as soon as she was seated, he closed the door and went back to the seat up front. "Will your brothers be joining us, princess?" she looked out the windows but could not see them.

"I don't think so, ser."

"Well, I was instructed to bring you home immediately," he said, also looking. "And I suppose your brothers can take care of themselves." and with that he started their trip back into town and through the cluttered streets to the inner walls. The men at the towers and the men walking the parapets took several minutes opening the gate because they busied themselves with talking and laughing over some joke they heard but eventually she was through.

The stone pathway was empty, indicating her brothers had not returned yet. Jakle helped her out once more. "Would it please you, m'lady, if I walked you to the gate?"

She took her things out of the carriage. "No, thank you though, ser." he said his goodbyes and started to bring the carriage into the overhang as she walked away.

Inside the castle she found that her parents were reading quietly in the main room. Her father was so preoccupied in his paper he hadn't even noticed she entered, while her mother had been reading a dusty old book Emma couldn't read the title—it looked like another language—and then she sat the book down to welcome her daughter home. "Oh you are home and you are still clean. Thank the Gods." she motioned for her to come over and seat, which Emma did hesitantly. "How was your day?"

"...fine, I guess."

"Now that isn't a very detailed answer, dear." she looked at her husband. "Edgar, talk to your daughter please." He grumbled something but his eyes never left the paper. "Edgar Roni Figaro!"

He peered up from the paper. "Hmm? Oh, yes, yes...Emma, be a dear and talk to your mother about your day."

Emma frowned. "What is there to t-t-tell? It was just like any other day..."

Now her father's interest was touched. He put the paper down to look at her squarely. "Somehow I am led to believe differently. If this was just like any other day, should you not have a problem telling us?"

"I just don't underst-stand why it is important..." she muttered.

"It is important to us because we love you and want to keep updated on your progress," Edgar explained.

"And social progress," Terra included.

"Well..." she thought for a moment if she should tell them what happened but just like any other day she decided it was not the time nor that it would help her any. "I finished all of my classes before everyone else so I had half my school day free."

"That's wonderful," Terra said. "You once again prove to the world you are the smartest girl in that entire academy." she leaned over to plant a motherly kiss on her cheek, which made her blush and pull away.

"If you had free time I better hear that you used it productively."

"Yes, father, I did." she said quickly. "But professor Alistar said I am not allowed to read material ahead of time anymore and—and I already read most of what they t-t-teach anyway."

"So where does that put you, then?" he asked.

She frowned. "He said I would have to be get knocked a grade down for every book I read ahead of time."

"What?!" Edgar shouted, shooting to his feet.

Terra reached out to take his hand, to calm him. "Edgar, please calm down. We can handle this without the shouting, I'm sure."

"That pompous, no good..." he paused when he saw that his daughter was watching, listening...learning by example. Then he clamped his mouth shut. "I will have a long discussion with him and the dean, be assured Emma. For now go to your room and read whatever it was you had started last week."

"But father, I don't want to get in tr—"

"Emma...do as you are told."

She groaned. "Yes father." and then she hurried up the stairs, hearing her parents get into a heated discussion over what to do with professor Alistar.

Upstairs, tucked safely within the privacy of her room, she reflected on the day's events with both happiness and unease. It had been weeks since her brothers intercepted an attempt to bully her. Had it truly been because they just didn't see it most of the time, or was there something she was doing that they thought deserved it? Or worse, maybe they didn't care before. But then what suddenly made them care if they didn't before?

She looked up from her study book (it was about the history of King Sigebert Loch Figaro and the short war he had between his bastard brother Napoleon Valoisa for the right of the throne) and out the window to the gardens. The late afternoon sun swept across the land in a pink afterglow and the late day winds rustled flowers, bushes and trees alike as if a storm were nearing. Suddenly a thought formed in her head and she felt even more uneasy.

What if she really was a bastard child of her mother? Would her brothers eventually try to have her executed so she couldn't possibly take the throne? According to ancient law, she wasn't allowed to it unless specifically stated by the king, their father, because she was not only a daughter but not from a royal or lordly lineage (due to her mother). She could not deny she loved the idea of becoming the first queen of Figaro in centuries but she did not like the potential outrage of such a decision by her brothers.

And then she felt foolish. How could she even be certain she was going to be named the heir of Figaro? There was years yet to come for her father to decide. All the more time for her to grow and show him she was capable of such a position, and beyond that—while her brothers were jerks to her—they were not with murderous intent toward kin. She giggled over her wild fantasies and went back to her book, page one thousand, sixty-two, to be precise.

By the time that she marked down another one hundred thirty-two her eyes were stinging and the sun had departed the sky in a gentle blue hint of pre-night. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly and glanced up at her clock; it was twenty minutes over her hour's worth of mandatory reading. She sat aside the book with a yawn and stretched out on the cushions of the window sill.

A rapid knock awoke her from her relaxation. She sat up. "Who is it?"

"Supper is finished!" it was Cambyses. "Mother said to get down here now, before it gets cold!" Emma was rather hungry. What perfect timing! She hurriedly put her book back on the shelf and then answered the door. Her brother was gone. She puffed in irritation before hurrying down the stairs and into the great hall.

Inside her mother and Rosalee were setting the the food and drinks, while her father sat with his face glued yet again to the papers, unable to hear his wife asking him to help set the table. Emma remarked to herself just how much she had seen her father reading in her six months at Figaro. She thought of a comedy she had read a week ago about an oblivious father and husband. She giggled as she came over to her spot just to his left, earning his attention.

"And what, pray tell, is so funny, m'girl?"

"Nothing," she chirped through a small smile, leaning over the table for a cut of fresh bread.

"Elbows!" Edgar muttered and she quickly removed her elbows from the table. "Have you finished your hour of reading?"

"Yea Emma, have you?" Benjamin asked as he took a spot opposite of her across the table. He stole two slices of bread. She shot him a dirty look before she looked at her father.

"Yes father, I have. I'm on page one thousand, two hundred seventy-three, right when king Sigebert wins the battle against—"

"Snore!" her brother said loudly. "Father, guess what happened during physical education today?" Edgar mumbled a quiet 'what?", half detached to the conversation thanks to the paper. Emma pouted and crossed her arms. "Cambyses won a silver ribbon against Eastwood's top fighter. Threw him on his back in like ten seconds of the first match!"

"It wasn't that fast," Cambyses muttered, though his face showed he believed it was too.

Edgar looked up from his paper with wide eyes. "Is that so? That is most impressive Cambyses! With maximum effort one can do whatever he puts his mind to. What of you, Benjamin?" Terra leaned down to plant a messy kiss on her eldest son's cheek, knowing full well he did not like such affection as a grown man but wishing to tease him. He shooed her away.

"After Camb's match I fought the second fighter for Eastwood and won the match in one minute. He was a tough one but he left his defenses down too much whenever he was circling around me or about to deliver a punch. I got a bronze ribbon, though, because I didn't 'show patience' to Eastwood's lower professionalism."

"How absurd," Edgar muttered. "Why in the world are you being punished for being better?"

"I don't think it has anything to do with that," Terra said, seating herself. "I think it is more about Benny being to quick to disrespect levels between other people."

"I didn't disrespect anyone," he snapped, hurt by the words.

Terra gasped. "Oh, I didn't mean I believe it, I just wanted to explain what Maron probably did it for."

"Well...it isn't right," he mumbled.

The silence that went on was accepted as agreement by the table as Terra gave out the food per plate. To Emma, her lack of effort in the discussion was because she didn't care. Why should she care if her brother got a bronze ribbon out of a hundred silver ribbons? She had seen him during his victories and Maron was right; he was impatient and disrespectful to lesser students sometimes. Their uncle always told her that a good monk acknowledges the improvement on others but moreso on himself through the effort and needs of another warrior. Clearly Benjamin didn't get that.

Her mind was so preoccupied by her brother's situation she hadn't noticed her mother dropping mostly greens on her place with a single slice of roast. When she noticed, she looked at her mother. "Can't I have more meat mother?"

"One slice is more than enough," Edgar cut in. "You must stay healthy, dear, remember?" Emma sighed and started cutting through her stringy green stalks of some odd plant as her brothers continued on talking about their day at the academy. Because they were older and in Golden Lion they had half the appearances of Sunset, meaning they had far more free time to also put in details of their life outside of school.

Emma heard a thousand and one different discussions on the wooing of ladies in less than ten minutes and even more on the tactics of warfare and her eldest brother's extra studies as a knight with general Suon. She dug her fork through the stalks with extreme boredom. How was any of this interesting to hear about for more than a few minutes? Their lack of interest in what she did was half the reason why she hated talking about her days. They didn't truly care, nor listen, just mumbled and nodded. She could say she did something truly deserving of a spanking or a dismissal by the academy and they wouldn't even hear it until it came from someone else.

I don't get it...what's so interesting about swinging a sword around at each other? she wondered as she glanced up at her brother Ben during a story he was probably mostly making up about a legendary fight he had been in today with a burly man. I would much rather hear about the progress of research on aquatic life than this. She sighed more heavily than she meant to, earning the glares of her brothers.

"Oh, are we boring you, Aden?" Cambyses asked, setting aside his fork.

She looked up sharply, cheeks pinking both at the name he used and the fact that she was not as discreet as she thought she was being. She could feel her parents eyes drilling into her, judging, angry, disappointed. She was afraid to face them so she faltered under her brother's eyes and looked back at her plate. "No...I'm sorry."

"Don't be like that, o' great one! Enlighten us on what you did today. Go on. We're all dying to hear what you did that was so much more interesting than what we did."

"I...I didn't say that—"

"Cambyses, please, not at the table," Terra pleaded with a frown most couldn't say no to.

"You were clearly thinking it." he went on.

"Enough," Edgar warned. "She didn't say anything, Cambyses, leave her be."

"She's just being prissy—"

"I said enough!" Edgar howled, slamming his hands down onto the table to silence him.

The silence was threatening to choke her. She could hear the thumping of her heart over the voices of her parents switching the discussion to martial topics or in relation to the crown and felt the piercing glares of her brothers over the twisting in her stomach that threatened to make her sick. She wouldn't dare to look up at her brothers; she knew they were incredibly angry now and she felt great shame. Cambyses was right. She had been thinking it, but she didn't mean anything by it. She just couldn't understand. Why did she have to come down to supper? She should have just faked feeling unwell, even if the cost of that would be her mother hovering over her to the point of embarrassment.

I didn't mean anything by it...I didn't, she told herself, trying to calm the fearful beat of her heart. She couldn't take it, and lost her appetite. She dared to look up at her father. "May...may I be excused?"

"No, you may not," he said, not with a strict voice but with disappointment—though it wasn't aimed at her. "We will eat as a family, now finish up your supper dear and then tell us what you did today." the attention of her brothers went directly to her, angry and ready to tease or attack with whatever she said. Her eyes widened at her father in a clear plea. He most have noticed the intent of her look but pressed with, "Go on."

Supper was definitely not worth this. She sighed. "I...I just read and—and..." she hadn't seen that her brothers were mocking her with their hands until she looked up at her mother and saw Ben. Tears stung in her eyes. "That's all." she added quickly.

"Once again I am lead to believe differently despite your words," her father said softly, indicating he understood her reluctance, but that he was not going to let it get in the way of knowing what his children learned or did. "What about during your physical? What did you do?"

She hesitated. It was a pathetic attempt on her end that resulted in the laughter of half of her class. She really didn't want to say. "She got her ass handed to her by a ten year old girl," Benjamin cut in sharply when he noticed she was not going to tell. "I've seen a rock take better instructions than her."

"That's not—not what happened!" she shouted.

"Yes it is, little liar," he said.

"That's enough of that!" Edgar and Terra had said, but the fight had already started and there was no putting it out before it could get any worse.

"It isn't!" she insisted hotly, standing.

Cambyses decided to cut in too. "She's right Benjamin, that wasn't how it went...it was a nine year old girl that tossed her to her back eight times in a row."

She looked at her eldest. "You weren't even there!"

"I was too," he laughed at her terribly red face and the tears in her eyes. "You cried like a giant child. Half of your class couldn't stop laughing at you." Terra had gotten up during what he said to declare the supper was over but in that time Emma's short temper had been struck. She attacked her eldest brother in a blind fit, smacking and punching him. He wasn't sure what to do—laugh or look at his brother in disbelief of the pathetic attack. Edgar was up now and disengaging the girl from her brother, who had started to hold her back at an arm's length.

"Enough!" Edgar howled, holding his daughter to him. "Enough Emma!" she was absolutely wild in his arms, kicking and reaching for her brother with unrelenting focus. "Stop it right now!" she broke free and attacked her brother once more, tears streaming down her face. This time it wasn't as funny to Cambyses as it was before because she had knocked him out of his chair and his head hit the stone floor, causing his vision to flash white and red. The next thing Emma knew was happening was her father yanking her back and her mother rushing over to check her son. "Damn it girl, stop!" this time she heard him and paused half yank from his arms, breathing labored heavily and hot tears streaming down her face.

Once it was clear that Camb was okay, with a lump at most, Edgar forced Emma into her chair. "What were you thinking, young lady?! You do not hit your brothers!"

"He was—"

"I don't care what he was doing or what he was saying! You never lay your hands on family, do you understand me?!"

"But—"

"There are no buts! Never again!"

"That's no fair!"

"She's a savage!" Cambyses hissed, holding a hand to the welt on the back of his head as his mother helped him up to her feet. "An animal!"

"Keep your mouth shut, boy!" Edgar snapped, eyes a raging ocean. He looked back at his daughter and forced her to look at him. "You will never lay another finger on your brothers, do you hear me, girl? Never again!"

"I say give her back to Relm and Gau," Benjamin muttered, still enjoying his slice of roast through it all. Edgar took a half second too long to respond angrily to that but it was enough time for Emma to shove him away and run out of the room. Terra hurried after her without so much as sparing her boys another look, or her husband.

••••••••••••

Emma slammed her door shut and locked it, and knowing her parents possessed a key, went for her table chair. She tucked it under the door knob and then pushed a crate of old possessions in front of the chair, to keep them from pushing the chair with continuous effort. By then her arms felt weak and her tears were running more freely down her face, and worse yet was that her anger had reached a peak. She could not see them right now. If she did she wouldn't be able to control her outburst.

Her body trembled as she dropped to the floor beside her bed. An energy was spiraling about in her chest, as if ready to burst. She needed to vent. She took her pillow, hid her face in it and screamed until her lungs felt empty and her throat raw, and continued until it hurt to breathe. When she pulled the pillow away her body still trembled, but with rage.

Why were her brothers so cruel to her? What had she done to them?

I hate them! I hate them so much!

The thoughts weren't entirely alien to her, she often thought it lately, but no matter how many times she did it always felt wrong and she felt sick afterwards. How could she even think that? She knew she loved them, that was why it hurt her so much for them to treat her like this. She sniffled and rubbed at her wet eyes. She dug under her mattress for her journal, an elegant thing Terra had gotten her when she came to visit on Thamasa. Emma was eight then, and feeling out of control of her life, so Terra had given her the journal and told her 'write your own history, dear'. The journal had gotten her through so many low points in her life, and whenever she felt she wasn't loved by her mother, at the least, she looked at it with hope that she was wrong.

It always made her feel better to write in it. To vent her emotions where none could see it and judge her. She rubbed snot from her nose and pulled the quill from the jacket on the inside of the book and went to look for her ink at the study table. As soon as she opened the journal to a fresh page she heard timid knocking at the door and gripped the quill as a weapon—if her brothers dared to come to her room she would stick it in their arm.

"Emma, baby?" It was her mother. Emma lowered the quill and listened. "May I come in? Honey, please..." she was just too hurt to let anyone in her room right now, especially her parents. They had sat around letting them treat her like that. Shouting 'stop' was not enough. She wiped fresh tears away. "I want to talk to you, nothing more, I promise. You aren't in trouble." when it was clear she was not going to get an answer, she said, "Alright then...when you are ready, we can talk. Goodnight my sweet girl." and then she walked away.

Emma sat in her chair and started writing, already feeling the weight crushing her lift. By the time that she finished detailing the day's events she was on a fifth page and suddenly hungry. It was nearly ten pm and she was dog tired on top of that. She blew on the final page to hurry its drying and then stuffed it safely under her mattress once more. Unable to leave her room, in fear of bumping into her brothers or parents, she undressed into her night blouse and crawled into bed completely exhausted, with hopes the days after would bring her happiness.

Her week went as expected. She avoided her family as much as she could, except for when it came to supper, the mandatory sit in. She sat at the end of the table, far away from any of them, and kept her mouth shut as they talked, as if nothing had happened. Her brothers had wonderful weekends though, full of adventures, wooing, friendship, duels and assignments done to perfection according to their professors.

Emma had another bout with Kysle and his friends on her way to a different place to eat, hoping they wouldn't find her. Instead of taking her lunch or insulting her, Kysle shoved her into the grass and tried to make her eat dirt. When that failed, he ripped a handful of grass off the ground and tried to shove it into her mouth. It took the interruption of Maron's voice, indicating the start of physical education, to stop him. Beyond that she spent her school days closely by professors when hours were free or in between class, and then escaped their hunt to the safety of captain Jakle.

She had hardly seen her brothers at school and when she did they acted like they couldn't see her or Kysle picking on her. It was back to them ignoring her, treating her like an outsider. Just a few minutes of what she always dreamed of gone without even truly saying anything.

And right now she heard her second brother finish retelling a joke he had made and given around school all day. Terra gasped and slapped his arm, telling him never to tell that joke again around his sister, while Edgar chided him for his lack of appropriate behavior. Emma didn't really get the joke, so she didn't know what to think about them fussing over her. "Just behave at the table, young man." Terra warned.

"Why do we have to filter ourselves around her?" he asked. "She should be sitting at the kid's table, not with us." Emma looked at him quickly before scooting her plate back and leaving the great hall, even as her father called for her to come back and eat. When she was gone her brother asked, "What?" when his parents glared at him.

Once she closed her door behind her, she went to her pillow and sunk her face into it so she could scream until her tears broke free and soaked her face, and then she fell onto her bed in utter exhaustion. She closed her eyes but soon woke to the sound of knocking on her door. Thinking it was her brother she lifted her head out of the comfort of her bed and screamed. "Leave me alone!"

"Princess?" the astonished voice belonged to Rosalee! Emma blushed and hurried to the door.

"I'm s-s-sorry Rosalee, I thought you were..." she hesitated. "What did you want?"

"I was told to tell you that your parents are waiting for you in the foyer."

It was morning now, though. It seemed too late for her parents to be lecturing her for her behavior at dinner but she supposed it wouldn't be out of the ordinary. "Did...did they say what they wanted?" she shook her head. "Did they look mad?"

"I just received the note, my princess. I did not see them."

Deciding it wasn't worth pissing them off any further, she built up her courage and went for the foyer. When she pushed the door open she was immediately greeted by the emptiness of a tomb. She walked in with a nervous frown on her face. "Mother? Father?" she let the door close behind her and glanced around the room, from the pillars on each side of the room to the empty chairs around the long table. "Hello?" she walked further in, beyond the first two pillars and paused along the third. "Mother?"

Before she could so much as flinch away her brother Benjamin jumped out from the third pillar and screamed, "Boo!" into her ear. She clamped her hands over her ears and recoiled away in a grimace, ears stinging and eyes shut so tightly it hurt her head. Her brother knew she had extremely sensitive ears. He started laughing. "Ah, come on, it wasn't that bad." When she recovered she turned to shove him. He barely moved an inch. He laughed some more. "Still angry over the other night, then?"

"You st-stupid oaf!"

"Damn, calm down, Aden," he said, pushing her a foot or so away. "It was just a joke."

She was so sick of Benjamin mimicking Cambyses, especially in regards to insults and teasing, but overall she was just sick of their games. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

"Why do you have to act so spoiled all the time, Aden?"

"Stop calling me that! My name is Emma!"

"And my name is Benjamin! Yet you call me Ben!"

"Camb calls you that all the time!"

"Because it is my name! I earn the right to decide who can call me what, not you."

She tightened her hands into fists at her side. "Fine!" and then she tried to shove by him to leave but he ran in front of her. "Get out of my way!"

"I called you down here because I wanted to tell you something." he said, holding her back. "It is something father said." that made her pause and suspiciously ask 'what'. He grinned. "He said Cambyses and I will be able to sit in on kingly duties with him before the Antlion celebration—with Suon, Hals and all the others in his council! To sit in on the council that directly shapes our world, our kingdom. Isn't that just exciting?" her face turned white as chalk. "Say...don't you think you should be discussing with mother what you should be doing during the celebration? You will need some time to make all of the decorations and—" he brought her down her to gloat? And then expected her to serve him like some dog? She thought she made it clear she wasn't going to do anything for them at the academy!

She was so mad she couldn't properly describe it. Instead she shoved him again, this time he tumbled into the support of the pillar near the doors. "I don't care about your stupid hunt or your stupid celebration! I'd rather eat nails than ever help you!"

"Why are you so selfish?" he challenged, stepping toward her. "This is an important event in my life, in Camb's life. Why can't you just be happy for us for once? Why must everything revolve around you, you little snot?"

"I'm selfish?" she asked in complete disbelief. "You b-brought me down here just to g-gloat! The race is only important to you and Camb! Why should I care about yet another event that honors you? That makes you happy? Why?!"

He shook his head. "You are probably on your gift, it is the only explanation why you are acting like such a b..." he stopped on the word, forcefully. "Forget it, you brat."

Emma didn't rightfully understand what he meant by 'on your gift' but she suspected it was not good. An excuse to sweep her emotions under the rug, she was sure. She already felt tired just dealing with her stupid brother. "Go annoy someone else!" and then she stormed out of the room just as her father opened the door to enter, having heard the shouting.

"What in heavens was that about?" Edgar asked as he reached for the wine cabinet to the far left and a spare crystal cup. He took a seat at the table as his son scoffed and crossed his arms. "Well?" he pressed, pouring the wine.

"I think she got her monthly excuse to act like a brat. It's a bloody mess just dealing with her." he chuckled over his choice of words. "Whatever. If she wants to run around like some wild child ignoring our traditions, who am I to stop her?"

Edgar chuckled over the rim of his glass. "Your sister isn't menstruating, son," Ben eww'd at his choice of words. "She is just reluctant to admit it, but she's upset about the race for another reason."

"Like what?"

"Well," Edgar started slowly, taking a sip. "If she agrees to the traditions it would mean, as she believes it, degrading herself to suit your every pleasure—as if she were no more than a maid, a slave, when she is actually your sister and every bit as Figaro as you are. Yet she knows that if she doesn't form to tradition she could be received negatively from the people, or maybe even her own brothers."

"Why would she think that and why would she let it upset her? It is insane!"

"Think about it from her perspective, son. She is just worried, is all, about herself and others." he smiled softly. "She's such a sweet little angel, with the flares and all."

"An angel? Would an angel shove her brother around or savagely attack him like some animal?"

"You both antagonized her, bullied her even, when you both know she has an extremely short temper and at complete odds in comparison to a normal girl her age."

"We did not!" he gasped. "She's just a spoiled brat! We shouldn't have brought her back with us."

Edgar slammed his cup down so hard the glass shattered and startled his son. "I will never hear those words from you again, Benjamin! Never again! Your sister is a complicated, temperamental girl, but she is my daughter and I will not hear you talk about her like that again! Am I clear?!" he stood and stomped out of the room steaming, very much who Emma got the temper from of the two parents.

Benjamin watched his father go and then shook his head. You are just too biased, father. She's gotten worse over the last few months but if you won't acknowledge it, then fine.

••••••••••••

The morning after her brother's tasteless gloating Emma found herself with a Free Day. There would be no grueling hours at Sunset over assignments that were as easy as counting to three or running through the halls to avoid her tormentors or the easily annoyed professor Alistar. She was free...well, not entirely. Her father insisted that his children spend their Free days as productively as possible. They were allowed to pick something but they would have to do it for two to three hours, depending on what was picked, with a twenty minute break.

Her brothers always chose something like swordplay or brawling, or archery. Emma had tried to ask for archery or swordplay once, a few months ago, but her father had a conniption fit. She had liked the look of archery, too, but had the choice of reading, training with her uncle in a weakened form of martial arts (to stave off her Sand Fever) or ballet—which she absolutely hated! Relm made her take it when she was seven for two years and it was absolutely terrible. So now she was stuck with reading, which normally she wouldn't mind. She just hated being told to read. It took the fun out of it.

She sighed and looked over the stone railing of the terrace outside of the study room, where her father usually took his quiet time. Her brothers were exchanging swift blows with their practice swords, grins plastered on their faces and sweat drenching their bodies from the effort. Her father was standing aside with Suon and Hals, admiring the technique of his sons with a proud smile and gleam in his eyes.

She scoffed. "That's not so impressive..." she muttered, watching as Camb twisted his wrist to knock his brother's sword out of his hands. "I can think of a billion other things that are far more impressive!" she told herself with a hmpf at the end. Some of those things included advanced mathematics or theories, or even the strangeness of the chocobo. What were the creatures' ancestors, exactly? Oh it was just exhilarating just thinking about it!

The door to the study opened and her mother walked in with a tray of fresh mint tea and some pecan cookies. She sat the tray down and saw that her daughter was watching her brothers train. "How goes your reading, my sweet girl?"

Emma looked up at her with another sigh. "Fine." she went back to reading, though with obvious disinterest.

"Oh," her mother muttered before walking over quietly to look out the window and then down at the literature she was reading. It was the history book on Figaro she had decided on at the start of the month to read, and was nearly done with it, from what she could see. "Anything in particular you find interesting?" she shrugged in a way that suggested she was not sure her mother was even interested. "Really Emma, I'd like to know."

Emma looked up at her mother. "Camb said it doesn't matter what dead people thought or did..."

"What? That's nonsense," she said, sitting down. "Our actions leave an imprint on the planet, on mankind. Everything we do, from the first breath we take to the last, influences something that pushes the world forward. Even you reading this book will have some impact, one way or another."

"You believe that? For true?"

Terra smiled. "I do. If it wasn't true, Cambyses wouldn't be gloating about the final battle to his colleagues at Golden Lion, would he?" they shared a giggle over that and Emma frowned. She hadn't thought about that. Now her brother looked even more oblivious to the truth. "Now...care to catch me up on the history you have read so far?"

Emma gave her mother an appreciative smile before she started recanting what she had learned so far, from the civil war brought on by Sigebert Loch Figaro based on hearsay from his closest advisor to the actual war against Napoleon Valoisa. Emma gave detail of the battle that ended the war and brought the brothers to the truth of the civil war, and then from there how Napoleon was made the first Steward, who later married a daughter of Doma.

By the end of her recantation, to the point where she now was, she was pink in the cheeks. She had talked for an hour straight and shamelessly kept her mother over from her duties for such uselessness. She ducked her eyes at the realization of what had happened. "I'm...I'm sorry, I t-talked too much."

Terra giggled. "Not at all. You didn't talk nearly enough, in my opinion."

"But I'm not—not as interesting as Ben and Camb."

"What? Who told you that?"

She started twisting her fingers through the laces of her dress nervously. "I just know what I like isn't interesting..."

Terra leaned over to take one of her hands. "Listen to me Emma...I love you and I love hearing everything about your days, your interests, your dislikes and especially how you feel. I love that you love something as much as you do. If only your brothers showed interest in anything more than physical advancements. I know they have their passions that are enough to swell pride in any mother, but you are special—you take so much love in what you do that it is..." she hesitated. "...it is inspirational. I may not be able to retain everything you said—dear, I am old—but I have learned a great deal in just one hour, not only about this kingdom but about my daughter. That is worth a thousand thousand hours of listening to the yammering of punching and kicking."

The last bit made Emma laugh a little and then she reached out to hug her mother tightly. "Thank you, mother."

She wrapped her arms around her daughter. "My sweet girl..."

••••••••••••

Terra was sure that once she left her daughter's room she heard the girl start to cry but she couldn't be sure without charging back into the room. If she were crying it meant she didn't want her mother to know, and Terra knew from her experience with all her children, biological or not, that a child needed to come to you, that you should not force them to open up. It still stung to know that her daughter was in some sort of pain that she was too afraid or shy to talk about, though Terra thought she had an inkling of what was causing it.

So her next stop was to locate her husband, who was still overseeing her sons' practice with encouraging words. "Edgar, dear, we need to talk..."

"In a moment, Terra, I'm busy with the boys." he said, watching closely.

"No, Edgar...right now." she latched her hand into his forearm, warning him she was serious. He faltered a look toward her before sighing and following her out of the view of the study into the depths of the garden, where Terra was sure her daughter couldn't see them and think she betrayed the trust put in her.

"Alright, now what is this about?" he asked as he was forced to take a seat on a stone bench under a blooming desert willow, with dark pink petals. Terra sat beside him.

"It is about Emma."

"...and?" he pressed with a cork of his brows.

"Something is upsetting her and she won't tell me what. I just came from her room to see how she was doing and she thinks she's not worth listening to in comparison to her brothers."

"What? That is insane...you did tell her that, didn't you?"

"I told her that was wrong," she admitted. "But I don't think she truly believed me. I think we need to set aside time to talk to her more about her curricula, so that she knows for sure."

"We ask her every day she comes home and she doesn't tell us," he said quietly. "What more can we do?"

"I think that's why she doesn't talk to us," she said. "She sees you express so much interest in what the boys that she doesn't receive from the interests she possess...it discourages her."

"So it is my fault?" he asked, unsure.

"No, no...of course not, but I would like to unite with this, okay?"

Edgar thought for a moment, eyes looking at the clouds rolling by in contemplation of something. "Of course Terra," he said. "But there is also something I wish to discuss with you about her."

"What is that?"

"I find our daughter's lack of control on her temper worrying. I know you saw what she did to Cambyses—that isn't right. We shouldn't let her get away with it."

"I understand, but what can we do? She has been like that since she was a child...it isn't something we can change."

"We don't have to change it, just teach her to control it, that's all. What say you? I think we could start after the annual dinner, so that nothing disrupts it or her excitement. Perhaps even Celes could help?"

Terra could not see how to disagree. Her daughter's temper was often a large part of what they talked about at night before bed, and greatly worried her. If she continued down her path, where would her future lead her? Who would even wish to marry her? She could lose her temper at any moment over anything under the sun. She knew her husband was right, but could they really help? She looked at him. "Alright, we shall try, but we cannot let her think we are punishing her Edgar. She can't control it and she doesn't understand it is wrong."

He smiled and took her hand, kissing the knuckles. "I wouldn't do this otherwise, m'lady."

••••••••••••

The days progressed towards the annual dinner quickly for Emma after the Free day her mother had suddenly appeared in. It filled her with hope. Perhaps even her father felt the same way about what she did or liked, and if that was so, perhaps she was a serious contender for the crown as heir. After all, to be a king or queen it took more than the ability to swing a sword and will to face it. It also took intelligence, mercy, cunning and understanding of history, so as to not repeat mistakes or learn from examples set by others.

She herself day dreaming a lot about her father proclaiming her heir, the greatest leader of all time, and often got a swift swat with a stick during class by her professors to awake her from her daydreams. There was just so much to be excited for. Beyond the potential proclaiming of the heir (that's what she suspected it was about while her brothers thought small) there was also the fact that she would be meeting the rest of the Returners face to face, as well as her cousins. She had only seen images of them all and recantations from her parents and guardians back at Thamasa, though she was assured she had met them when she was younger she couldn't remember that at all.

The tales of Celes Chere, the exploits of Locke Cole, the dazzle of Setzer and his romantic antics...all of it would be portrayed in truth before her soon enough. It wouldn't be just words in the wind, but fact. She would also get to meet the lady of her brother's heart, Cadence Cole—who as Emma heard it, has been on a treasure related adventure with her father for half a year. She wondered just how beautiful the woman was to steal her brother's heart, when she knew just how much Cambyses loved the attention of women.

Her uncle had taken a vacation with his family a month before she arrived in Figaro and would be back sometime tonight, when she slept, while she heard that Setzer's family had a 'horrible sense of time' and would arrive last minute. She didn't know what to make of that but it also sounded very charming.

She could barely breathe from the excitement of it! And all she had to do was get through today and wake up to the day she had been waiting for since she arrived. It also seemed fitting that the annual dinner was on a Free day, so she could relax and do whatever she wanted.

Emma ran down the stairs into the great hall and took an empty seat across from her brothers, so that she did not antagonize them. Benjamin was busy flipping through a book on constructing while Cambyses was digging his way through 'Arts of the Antlion Race by Deroga Ashton'. She reached for one of the sweet pies in a basket while her mother's back was turned by was promptly swatted a second later, causing her to drop back into the basket with an 'ouch!'.

"Now my sweet girl you know sweets are off limits to you in the morning." her mother reminded her just as her father took a seat at the head of the table, paper in hand. "Eat your breakfast first and maybe you can have one." she sat a bowl of mushy pale oatmeal before Emma.

Emma aww'd as she dug through the mush with a frown. She pushed it away with a sigh, catching her father's attention. "Emma...you must eat to keep your strength."

"She could stand to skip a few meals," Benjamin sputtered through a giggle and mouthful of bacon.

Emma slammed her hands down onto the counter with a 'shut up!' just as their father shuffled the paper out of view to glare at his son. "Benjamin, apologize to your sister right now." as he grumbled his apologies Emma stuck her tongue out at him in defeat, which was overlapped with her father's voice. "I was serious, girl, eat your breakfast. If you do not wish to faint as you do you will need to keep your strength." he pushed the bowl back toward her as his wife took a seat. "Go on." Emma blushed and started eating her breakfast, while her brothers were giggling. Edgar smiled. "That's my darling girl." the boys feinted a gag at their sister's expense. "Now, I realize you all have a Free day, but I will not tolerate you wasting your days away. You know the requirements to spend the day as you will."

"Aw, father," Benjamin dropped his head onto the table dramatically, causing Emma to giggled over her spoon. Sometimes she really loved her brothers' dramatics.

"You all have such bright futures...why would you wish to waste them?"

"It is called 'fun' father...have you heard of it?" Cambyses asked, sliding his plate and book away. "Regardless, I promised I would fly to Nikeah to meet the Cole family at the docks and escort Cadence to dinner. I haven't had a day with her in nearly a year father...don't make me stay, please."

After a moment of considering, he nodded. "Alright then, I cannot allow you to leave a lady waiting for you when you made a promise to her. I will, however, require that you spend the hours you have aboard the airship doing something productive, such as reading, like your sister does." abashed, Cambyses questioned why he had to. "Why? Because I said so, that's reason enough."

"I am twenty-three father, am I not expected to lead my life myself now? Don't you think I am a bit too old to be parented like this?"

"So long as you live under my house as my son you will do as I tell you. Is that clear?"

Cambyses grumbled, 'Yes father, it is clear' before he got up and left the great hall. Benjamin looked up from his bacon and eggs. "Father, may I join him? Uncle said he would be landing in Nikeah as well, and we had plans to visit the Old Mountains to inspect the monk temples as part of our training. His sons will be there, too."

Edgar did not hesitate for that. "Of course, son. Your future is only as bright as you make it. Your perusal of the martial arts is an admirable one." Ben thanked him and went back to his food, even as Emma gaped at her father in utter disbelief. It was so comical to Terra that she giggled; her husband didn't even notice as he went back to reading his paper.

Emma raised her hand. "Father?" he looked at her and she suddenly lost the courage she had built up. She lowered her eyes. "Can...may I go too?"

Edgar looked at her, shocked, just as Benjamin did. "You want to visit the temples to train?"

Emma pinked at the misunderstanding. Ben started laughing so hard at his father's words he started to tear up. Emma looked at him for a second before she tried to explain. "No...no I mean may—may I also have the d-d-day off?"

"You mean to ask 'May I skip the day and waste it away', do you not?" Terra rolled her eyes at her husband, who had sat the paper down once more to look at his daughter squarely.

"Not waste but..."

"No," he said quickly, lifting the paper and scowling.

Emma frowned. "But...but Camb and Ben get to—"

"They are a decade older than you," he explained. "A thirteen year old girl should be spending her days building a foundation for the rest of her life, through curricula growth. I said no and that is final."

"Soon I'm going to be fourteen—"

"And in nine more years after that you shall be as old as Cambyses, what of it?" his eyes were hard with parental love. "You are still a child that needs the hard hand of guidance, and regardless, what could you do if I said yes? Where would you even go?" flustered by her father's words—and that his words sent her brother into an even louder fit of laughter—Emma looked down at her oatmeal with hot tears in her eyes. "However, if you study hard Emma, I will consider letting you spend your Free days however you want. Until then I cannot allow you to skip your studies and run about like some...some..."

"Child?" Terra suggested with a near snarl.

Edgar went flush at his wife's red hot voice. It was clear she was angry. Benjamin passed Emma a 'don't look or say anything!' look and she followed his suit by looking down at her breakfast, acting like the scene going on was noticeable only by the ones involved. "Why...why of course. She should be studying, adjusting evening, not running about like some wild child."

"Because we can't have our child act like a child! No, certainly that would be preposterous!" she said, and his blush darkened, especially when he realized their fight was starting in front of their children. Emma had never really seen the two fight before, and he felt shameful that it was starting now while she was still so young. They didn't fight often and whenever they did, they were kissing and laughing minutes late, but there was something in his wife's tone that suggested this time she would not yield to his handsome smile or charming eyes or tender touches. She was furious.

"Terra, dear, she needs to learn to take her life seriously. How can she do that when she is off doing gods know what?"

"If anyone should be taking their lives more seriously it is our twenty year old sons," she said. "Not our thirteen year old daughter who reads and studies for fun!"

"Discipline, effort, patience and responsibilities must be learned early on otherwise the child will know nothing of it when she is older. Our sons learned it at her age, earlier even, so should she—"

Terra rose smoothly, beautiful pale purple eyes dark and narrowed. "No, not today. Today she will accompany me to the market, without any mandatory reading or whatever else you sniffle about!" she motioned for her daughter to get up, but she passed a terrified and unsure look at her brother for help. He had no help, only a wide-eyed expression. "Emma dear, come on, we're going to have a day off together."

Edgar sputtered. "Terra!" he got up. "What kind of example are we setting for her if we let her do this? If we break the mandatory studies so she can have fun?"

Terra looked at him once she came to stand beside her daughter. "That she is a child and will not be one for long. Come now, dear," she lifted her daughter by the arm and practically dragged her out of the room. Emma glanced over her shoulder at her father and brother one before letting her mother take her through the double doors.

Benjamin sat his spoon down, in awe. "I have never seen mother like that before..."

Edgar's mouth was gapping. He shut it firmly. "Aye, neither have I."

"What will you do about this? It seems mother is serious about doing this with Emma."

"She is most definitely serious," he muttered, clearing away from the table and adjusting his surcoat. "But there are two parents under this roof and proper discussion must be met before changes are made to the rules." he cleared his throat and quietly exited the room. When the doors shut, Benjamin grinned and stole all of the leftover food.

••••••••••••

Edgar caught them nearing the doors into the gardens. Emma was pale and fidgeting behind her mother even before she saw him approaching but as soon as she did she ducked her head nervously. Edgar looked at her flatly for a moment, wondering why his daughter was always so fidgety, before he cleared his throat to stop his wife. She had her pouch of coins tucked under one arm and was reaching for her sun hat.

She corked an elegant eyebrow at him as she faced him. "What do you want, Edgar?"

"We need to discuss this before we start making changes Terra. We had agreed this was the best course of action...you cannot just change it without discussing it first."

Her temper flared. "Make no mistake Edgar on this matter; I am her mother. I am the one that spent hours in labor delivering her. I am the one that carried her for months, through the aches and pains and hunger. I am the one who cared for her through all those restless nights, took care of every diaper, of every flu or sneeze. I am the one that carries the marks of rearing her. Why not, I ask, can I adjust the rules as I see fit? What right do you have to say that I do not, the mother and primary care taker?"

His eyes went wide at his wife in absolute astonishment and pride. His wife was one daring and captivating woman! Who else but Terra Branford would make clear her authority of her lord husband, king of all? Even Emma was looking at her mother strangely, as if she had just caught sight of a new idol. He felt a stirring inside to smile and kiss his wife but held it aside for later (if she were willing to accept his most charming displays of apologies) to say, smooth and careful, "I am not saying that you cannot...just that we should discuss it first, as parents. I understand I was not always there for the nights of wailing or there to rock her when she was sick...I regret it more than you can imagine, but I am still her father and I have loved her since I saw her. Doesn't that entitle some sort of right in the discussion of her rearing?"

She cooled instantly, the blaze in her eyes vanishing behind a curtain of her usually sweetness. She reached out to touch her daughter's shoulder, startling her. "Emma, my sweet girl...go wait in your room so your father and I can talk." she blinked at her mother noiselessly before hurrying off. The sound of her sandals patting the stone floor made Edgar's heart swell with memories of her time in Thamasa. He brushed it aside—he had far more important things to deal with despite how the memories made him unbelievably happy. He braced himself for the slaughtering that his wife would cause against him. Her brows furrowed and he gulped. "Well?"

His courage diminished. "Terra, my sweetest and most loveliest angel..." he had to be careful with how he approached the subject. She would not take kindly to anything that could even remotely be taken as condescending. "I know you must be terribly angry, perhaps even upset," he said slowly. For reasons I'm not quite sure of, myself. "But we must work as a unit. If we single each other off and work separately the effect of our efforts will be weak. Only a united front can withstand the raising of a teenager, I'm sure you know." her lack of a response told him to continue. "I am only thinking of her future..."

Wrong thing to say. Her expression shifted into outrage. "And I am not?!"

Edgar sucked in a quick breath. One second of ignorance would undo everything! How could he be so stupid? He had to be more careful; in his experience women could be difficult. They would hear one thing and come out with a meaning that wasn't even there. At least not intentionally put there. He took a breath. "Now dear...you know that is not what I meant. I just mean that you...well that you baby her. You always have and I am afraid that you always will."

Her expression softened in the lack of understanding. "She's my baby..."

Realizing she was hurting for some reason, he reached out to take her hand. "I understand that. She is my baby girl too, but like Emma said...she will be fourteen near the end of the year, just a few years away from being a woman herself. With that do you find it wise to still treat her like she is a six year old without a care in the world?" his wife looked away, unsure. "She spends her days reading fantasies and adventure literature Terra. She is stuck in the conception that life is going to be one of those novels. She doesn't understand what reality is like, not truly, and that is because she was only ever raised as a princess. She needs responsibilities and discipline rooted now, not later, when she most needs it. She needs to be ready, my sweet wife."

She looked at him, confused. "Ready for what?"

Edgar sighed and squeezed her hand. "You know very well what I am referring to," he said softly. "You know the tough decisions I must make hereon and how it will impact everyone in this family, including her." Terra nodded quietly. "What will she do then, hmm? Our sons have thorough plans for their futures. They haven't built them around being a prince or king; but on a future they want and can grow on. Benjamin wants to become an Engineer and trains as monk and knight as a backup if that falls through wrong, and Cambyses has been training his entire life to become a knight so that he can one day lead the Figaro military as its general, to take over Suon's position—and let me tell you Terra, there is no doubt he will become what he wants—but what does our daughter think to become? Wish to become? Has she ever made that clear to you?"

Terra's eyes misted in tears. "I..."

"She hasn't told you a thing, has she?" he asked softly. "And that is because she spends her days daydreaming about the continued life of a princess, of fancies that should have been dispelled when she was younger. I know our daughter is in the top of her class, able to easily out think even her professors, and I love her for it but she doesn't express interest in anything outside of her classes or personal fancies. She hasn't made effort to become anything, to tell us she wishes to become something. The only thing she is prepared for is to live as a princess. She has no motivation, no ground on which to stand..."

Terra looked at him sharply. "She is the top of her class."

"I know...I said that, but—"

"She learns anything put in front of her, no matter how difficult. She learns it like she has known it all her life."

"Terra, you aren't listening. The problem is that—"

"She can even rebuild one of those engines of yours with just two tools, without reading a manual or going over your notes."

Edgar could see the fury building in his wife's eyes. She was not going to stop until she got the point she was making across. "Please listen to me Terra! I know that she is smart and—"

"She even learns your brother's stances exceptionally quick!"

Edgar looked back at the stairs when she finished screaming, horrified. "Terra, please!" he hissed, laying a hand over her mouth. "I know that our daughter is an intelligent young lady, that she even rivals her professors, I am not trying to say that she isn't. My point is that without the motivation to become something she will never succeed in life, even if she has the talent to do it."

Terra shrugged out of his hold, furious. "And my point, Edgar," she stressed his name oddly whenever she was upset with him. "Is that she can do whatever she sets her mind to." she started walking away. "She just has no challenge!" when she was gone, he sighed heavily.

"Women..."

••••••••••••

To Emma's surprise the fight—oh, 'talk'—her parents had did not last very long. It was common that the fights that happened about her lasted far longer than a few minutes. They never really made sure she wasn't listening in on them. She had learned to spy on their fights about her long ago in Thamasa, when she was still just a kid when a visit ended abruptly over something Emma did, though she still to this day wasn't sure what that was. When they had left they argued for a while on what to tell her and how to tell her, and then what to get her to make her shut up later. From then on Emma decided it was better to get the actual truth directly from her parents instead of trying to understand it through the lens of falsehoods they often gave her. In the events that she could not listen in, it took great effort to really come to the reasons of their fights, but mostly when left to her own abilities to learn the truth, it failed.

This current argument was over her "lack of motivation", according to her father. She was once again hearing that she was a spoiled brat from someone...she hadn't expected it to be her father, though. She pressed herself against the stone wall by the stairs and listened closer.

"You know very well what I am referring to," her father said softly. "You know the tough decisions I must make hereon and how it will impact everyone in this family, including her."

What does he mean by that? She thought, frowning. She had been thinking on what he meant for so long that she hadn't noticed the fight ended and her mother was heading for the stairs. She gasped silently and charged down the hall for her room. She made it into her room a moment before her mother knocked on the door. Still breathing hard from the run, she opened the door and was greeted by the disappointed look of her mother.

Emma knew that expression. "Emma, my sweet girl..." her mother started slowly, unsure of how to proceed. "I know I said you could have the Free day off but..." she took a breath. "I need to discuss it with your father first, but I will get him to relent, I promise."

She smiled at her mother weakly in understanding. Her father was right; even if she got the day off, where would she go? What would she do? She had no friends—not here in Figaro, at least—and had no activities outside of school to work on. She would have liked the time to just do whatever she wanted though, whatever popped up in her. She hoped her smile convinced her mother that it was okay more than it felt true for herself. "That's fine, mother, I don't mind."

Terra took her by the face and kissed each cheek. "I love you, Emma. There will be a next time, I promise you." she hugged her and then left. Emma closed the door with a sigh and turned toward her bookshelf.

Maybe next time. She guessed it didn't matter much—tomorrow night was the annual dinner. One way or another, things would go right.

••••••••••••

The next day, after Emma bathed and ate, she went through her mandatory study time with ease. Too quickly, her father had said to her with suspicions of skipping. So he tested her. He had read the material thrice and knew it well. When she answered event he questions he forgot, or didn't have time to ask, he was pleased with her. He handed her over a few sweets from his pocket, after making sure her mother wasn't snooping about, and congratulated her on being a persevering young lady. Emma didn't know what to take of his choice of words but nevertheless accepted the sweets with a bright smile.

They were Jidoorian chocolates and who, in their right mind, could resist chocolate?

Afterward she bothered her father with questions about the annual dinner, and what was to be expected that night. She had been so nervous all week thinking of all her expected curtsies and pleasantries, and still wasn't sure she knew them all or remembered them all. It took her mother coming to her father's rescue to tell her she just had to behave according to the standards Relm taught her. Emma thought that sounded easy enough. She thought there were some strange Figaro curtsies she would have to master first. She kissed her mother and father on the cheek before she left the main room in an excited run.

Her brothers still hadn't come home from their trips but she knew they would be back in time, with some of the people she was to meet, which meant they were flying in an airship. She wondered how that felt, flying so high above the ground, above even the clouds. She would have hoped they would be late if it wasn't for the fact that they were accompanied by her uncle and the Cole family.

Throughout the day the great hall was full of the smells of the kitchen staff working hard, alongside the queen, who always loved to cook and help Rosalee. Emma could smell turkey, roast, pork and fruit pies, and despite others not being able to smell it, fresh lettuce and vegetables being diced. She could even smell mushrooms, one of her favorites in the world. It took her several attempts at swiping a sweet roll from the kitchen before she succeed and dashed away from the swinging hand of Rosalee with her wooden spoon.

Soon enough Terra came into the main room, where Emma was seated reading beside her father, stating that supper wouldn't be too long off and that Emma should get ready. She was quick to run to her room at that, leaving behind her stack of books.

Emma just didn't know what to wear. She put out all of her nicest clothing on the bed and realized the nicest were dresses, of which she did not feel comfortable in at all. They showed a lot of skin around placed that were embarrassingly underdeveloped or adult, in her opinion. She had a choice of three dresses, two of which were Figaro made, the last a Thamasan dinner dress. And then she had her entree tunic set, still practically new, from her last few months at Cambidge Academy for the Gifted back at Thamasa. It's blouse, beige, came with a darker brown vest and a matching beige pair of skirts and stockings.

She lifted the tunic up and held it against her, to see how it measured up. Pleased by how it looked, she decided it would do. Once she was finished dressing she came to stand before her bull body mirror in her basin room. At first she was rather pleased with it, the colors were pretty and the attire itself was fancy, but the longer she stared at herself the more she felt ashamed. Despite the set being nearly eight months old it fit her snuggly, as if she hadn't changed even a bit.

She blushed at the lack of changes and sighed. Any of the dresses would show her lack of change more, so she was stuck. Perhaps she just wasn't entirely done yet. She went to taking care of her hair, brushing it slowly and softly until it shone. In that time she heard the bustle of engines through the walls and open window of her room and turned her head to look at the grandfather clock tucked safely in the corner of her room by the door. It was only an hour away from the dinner! How fast time had passed! She sat aside her brush and started to braid her hair almost frantically.

When she was satisfied with her braid—making it straight after three tries—she went back to the mirror with her eyes down, not yet ready to see how she looked. You can do it, she told herself. Slowly, with extreme reluctance, she glanced up at her reflection. To her surprise she did look a little older. Her face was still plump but it looked like it had aged, even if it were just by a few months. She smiled sweetly at her reflection, proud.

"Tonight is my night," she told her reflection.

There was a knock on her door. "Miss Emma, your brothers have arrived and are ready to take their seats before the families arrive. Your parents would like you to come down quickly."

"Okay!" she chirped.

She raced down the stairs, straight through the foyer—nearly killing herself when she collided with a guard—and pushed the doors to the great hall open with a puff. The doors seemed heavier than usual. When she came into the well lit hall, she found the reason of such; a giant pennant of the crown sat on the door. She looked at it for a moment, wondering why it was there, before she hurried into the opening. A line of four men, representatives of the council, stood rigid at the westward wall, staring ahead as if not alive at all.

Her parents were seated at the head of the table, side by side. Her father was to the right, as customary for the king of Figaro. Her brother Benjamin was leaning back on his chair beside their mother while Cambyses had yet to take a seat, pacing about the length of the chair in his handsome party armor. He looked beyond stressed. When she approached her mother signaled for her to take a seat quickly and completely unsure of where she was supposed to sit, took one seat down from her father's right, because she thought her brother would already took the seat beside their father.

When she was seated, her father looked at Cambyses with a small smile. "Son, sit, before you mark a groove in the floor."

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried, is all," he muttered, taking the seat Emma declined. She was right. "I left Cadence at the aerodome...I should have walked her to her chambers."

Edgar laughed. "If I recall, Cadence does not appreciate the chivalrous nature from you. Now relax...this is going to be the finest annual dinner yet." he noticed Emma and added, "And make sure your sister does not pass around mushrooms to the wrong person. The last thing I need is Cole turning red and complaining that I tried to kill him."

"I won't father, I promise," she said over her brothers' laughter. When she was not acknowledged, she puffed her cheeks in anger.

"Now, without further ado," Edgar said, raising from his seat. Terra joined him. "Let the dinner start." he motioned for the guards to open the door and in came the first family. Emma leaned forward to see around the pillars and smiled when she caught sight of her burly uncle with his wife on his arm. His hair was graying, almost as much as her father's, and a stubble covered his square jaw. Unlike her father, he did not yet need glasses, so he strode in with blazing blue eyes of a youth. His attire looked rather silly on him because he didn't normally dress so regally or lordly, but in Emma's eyes he was still every bit as handsome and proud looking.

His wife, Karrin, had a very southern look about her; chocolate hair that fell down her shoulder in bouncy waves, happy and bright green eyes, freckles and a short nose over plump red limps. She stood so much shorter than Sabin that he had to bend almost entirely down to kiss her lips (when he didn't lift her). She was in a frilly dress the color of white and creme, with four year old Cirilla in her arms. She was pudgy faced, freckled and blued eyed with a giggly attitude that made Emma smile warmly. It wasn't the first time she met the baby.

Behind her uncle and Karrin came two twins; the boys Ardel and Theo. They were almost identical in appearance except that Ardel was a few inches shorter than his brother. Both had shaggy brown locks that fell passed their ears, and slightly darker blue eyes than their father. They were dressed identically in the dark blue and gray tunics of their monk temple, where they took their studies both as students and their martial artists. Emma knew they were older than her, but they looked just as young as she did and that made her feel a little better about her age and position at the table.

Behind them was the tall, wiry build of Zellum, with cropped blond hair and green eyes. He had freckles over his face, but no where near as obvious as his mother. Although he did not practice martial arts like his brothers, or even her brothers, he had drilling it that gave his wiry body a hard tone to it. He chose to pursue a career in military, excelling at a pace greater than even her brother Cambyses. He was dressed in a red doublet enriched with golden accents and the royal sigil of the family over his heart, with a long sword buckled at his waist. He stood just as tall as his father, even looked like him if you ignored the color of his eyes and the freckles, but as he approached the table Emma did not sense any of the good hearted attitude of her uncle in him. He seemed a very serious young man.

Benjamin perked instantly. Despite the twins being younger by a few years he and the boys had become very close. He considered them brothers more than cousins. "Uncle! May Ardel and Theo sit near me?"

"I don't see why not," he said through a wide smile as he helped his wife into her seat at the other end of the table, facing his brother and sister-in-law. He caught sight of a little figure hidden behind the frame of his nephew Cambyses and laughed happily. "Emma! My gods you have barely grown! Well, sit up, won't you? Let me get a good look at you!" Emma, under the directive of her father's stare, politely stepped out from the table and waited as her uncle rushed over to lift her into a bear hug. He placed her back on her feet and ruffled her hair. "Still a midget!" Benjamin sputtered a laugh, though Ardel elbowed him to stop him. "Let me see your muscles, eh?"

Emma blushed. She hadn't any muscles! Surely her uncle remembered? Terra giggled. "Sabin, behave!"

"Ahaha," he patted his niece's shoulder. "Oh! Where are my manners? It seems a year in the woods stole my wit!" he gestured to the twins. "The shorter one stuffing his face with bread is Ardelo," the boy in question gave a wide smile at his cousin. "And that is Theodore. And this," he pointed to Zellum, who took a seat to the right of Theo. "Is Zellum. All of which are—as I told you at Thamasa—sturdy fools!"

Emma was aware of not only the expecting stare of her parents to remember her manners, but the glowering of her eldest cousin. She faced them and dipped, lifting the ends of her skirt. "Lady Karrin," she bowed her head and then repeated the movement for her cousins. "It is a p-p-pleasure to finally meet you all." her parents were very pleased with her curtsy and gave a proud smile, though all Emma could see was the glowering of her cousin. She faltered and retook her seat.

"So, boys, will your cousin do?" Sabin asked with a teasing smile at his niece.

The twins smiled at her and opened their mouth to speak, in unison, but were stopped by Zellum's short scoff. They continued on as if it went unheard. "It is an honor! Maybe we can practice sometime." Ardel said, and Theo said, "It is also a pleasure, cousin!"

Zellum stood. There was something in his expression that betrayed the anger he felt into disgust and shame. "Perfect. I always wanted to dine with a freak." there were hushed gasps, and Cambyses scoffed his chair back, as if meaning to get up. Sabin didn't know what to do but nervously chuckle, thinking his son was joking.

Emma was confused. She looked around. "Me?" she asked finally, surprised, hurt. She did not catch the young man's sarcasm.

"Who else else could I possibly be talking about? Look at you!" he gestured at her.

Edgar was on his feet immediately, furious. "You may be my brother's boy, but that will not me from whooping you as if you were my own! Do not insult my daughter!"

Emma was horrified. He was serious? She should have known from his glaring that his intentions would lead to this. She sunk lower in her chair, as if removing herself from sight would stop the fight happening between family. It must be true that she looked like a goblin. So many people have said it to her. She really wished she had faked feeling sick.

Sabin looked to his son. "Apologize to her right now."

Zellum returned his uncle's glare with an equally angry one. "I will not."

"Zellum!" Sabin growled, stiff in his spot just beside his niece. "What is this madness about? Apologize and sit down."

"No," he snapped. "You forced me to come here. You know I didn't want to come. You know I didn't want to see her." He gestured toward Emma. "And yet here I am! I will not sit here and act like she is family. She even came here dressed as some wench! I won't pretend she gets to live when she took my—"

"Enough!" Edgar howled, slamming his hands onto the table. Terra quickly caught a tipping jug of wine. "If you will persist in this you will leave this room now, otherwise I will clout you myself."

Zell looked at his father for support, if only verbally, but he was not going to get it. "I will let him. Either apologize and sit down, or leave the room."

The young man passed one dirty look to Emma and said, "Fine. I would rather dine with swine than her." before he left the room in a quiet shame. As soon as the doors closed, Sabin looked at his niece with the most shameful expression and tried to explain that his son just had a terrible year, that he didn't mean it, that Sabin loved her, that he was sorry and more. At first Emma thought he was directing her mother and father, but then he pleaded directly with her to forgive him. He truly looked ashamed of what had happened, and personally hurt, and Emma felt terrible. She didn't know what to say, to make him feel better. She didn't even understand why Zellum was so angry with her. What had she done now?

Her father motioned him to sit. "Sabin, we all know you and your sons, Ardel and Theo, do not share Zellum's sentiments. Please, let us move passed it and eat. This was supposed to be a dinner with family and friends. Cannot we have that just once a year?" Feeling obligated to make it up to them all, Sabin nodded quietly and took his seat beside his wife, still very much ashamed.

Emma suddenly felt extremely self conscious. Maybe he was upset over how she decided to dress during a formal and special occasion. Maybe he was mad because she hadn't singly greeted him. Maybe...she wondered. What did I do? She saw her mother smiling softly at her, trying to be encouraging. She mouthed 'be strong, my girl' but Emma did not feel anything close to being strong or okay. Her father cleared his throat and welcomed in the next family.

The door once again opens and in came a family of four. A tall woman with platinum hair and stark blue eyes like aquamarines. She stood taller than Terra by several inches and walked with confidence and absolute femininity. Her face was elegant and long, with a chiseled nose and a delicate jawline and thin lips. Emma's eyes went wide. She was absolutely stunning in her crimson dress. It was cut square around the breasts, with a tight waist wrapped tightly with a wide golden sash, while her sleeves hung a foot foot loose off her wrists. Around her neck was an oval shaped ruby in silver chain.

And the man with whom had an arm tangled through hers was a quirky looking handsome. He had grayish brown eyes, a wide nose and a squarish jawline with a head of shaggy pale brown hair, almost like the color of wet sand. He was dressed in a black doublet and gray blouse, with tight black pants and large boots worn with years of use. He had a rather boyish look on him, as if he were always happy.

A young woman stepped into view then, an unbelievable combination of the two. She had wavy brown hair, rich and shining, with hooded blue eyes and her mother's fine facial details and height. Her dress was very similar to her mothers, but thin and smooth, with skin tight sleeves and a triangle cut down her chest. Her features were strikingly fierce, unreal even. Emma felt humiliated. How could someone so wonderfully beautiful exist?

The last to enter was a boy around her age, who looked like a miniature Locke with Celes' hair, eyes and nose. He was dressed in a gambeson of maroon over a wool shirt of pale red, with a wide belt where he had his shortsword sheathed. A pin of a falcon was fastened over his heart, made of pure silver, oddly complimented by the dark red cloak around his shoulders. He looked like a knight! As if the sword he wore at his hip was far more than for looks, as if he would slay a dragon the moment it appeared. He was quite handsome.

To her utter embarrassment Locke and his son bowed to her mother and then to her, where the boy lingered longer than his father. He had bent by the waist utterly and flapped his cloak back, tucking one arm under his abdomen and the other over the small of his back. It was the most ancient form of bowing to women, often made by a man courting a woman or trying to. Her cheeks pinked and she looked away from his playful eyes when he finally rose. Edgar did not notice the looks his daughter was receiving and said, lifting a wine cup to Locke. "Gods be praised...you actually showed up."

Locke made a mocking laugh. "Haven't I apologized enough for last year, Ed?"

"Not nearly enough," he said through a charming smile. He gestured the cup toward Emma. "Dear, this is Locke Cole, his son Jacen, daughter Cadence and his lovely wife Celes Chere." Celes gave a small smile before she seated herself, while Cadence gave her such a friendly look that Emma forgot about her cousin's outburst for just a moment. Locke dramatically knelt to look at her face from across the table and made a rather goofy face at her. "You are so quiet I hardly noticed you sitting there. You know..." he broke off his sentence and for a split moment there was silence she hadn't noticed, and then laughter burst across the table. Emma hadn't understood why until she realized that she was staring at the Cole boy (and to be fair, she was mostly staring because he was). She went flush and looked away. Her mother's giggling stung the most, for some reason. Her mother had never teased her before, not like that. "I suppose I'm not that interesting, huh?"

Emma tried to keep her eyes on her plate, to fight back the tears of humiliation threatening to spring forward. Celes ordered her husband to sit down and stop acting like a buffoon. Cambyses took it a step further though, meaning to tease her only. "Aww, they are both blushing." her temper flared. If she wasn't in front of people she would have smashed a plate over his head! Instead she opted into shooting him an angry look.

"Cambyses, stop teasing your sister," Terra chided, easily sensing the distress of her daughter and wishing to aid her. "And for the millionth time, learn to behave before guests." He had the grace to blush himself this time. Emma giggled under her breath, getting a sharp elbow in her ribs.

"Ouch!" she gasped loudly, earning strange looks from those at the table. No one had seen Cambyses elbow her. Edgar shook his head at her before asking the guards to let the last family in.

The doors opened and a largely male dominated family strode into the room. The man and woman in the front, Emma knew, was Setzer and his wife Maria. She recognized them from some of the pictures in the castle both in Thamasa and in Figaro, but she never saw a recent picture of the entire family. The two boys in the front only stood a foot difference than each other and were like night and day when it came to their appearances. The boy to the left had cropped silver hair like his father and the other blond. One had brown eyes the other pale purple, one was sturdily built the other a bit lean. They wore polished silver armor and red capes, with a broadsword buckled securely to their sides. They looked more than capable of using the swords, especially with the stern look they held. They were at least a few years older than her, or else grew like well nourished trees.

Emma could hear her brothers complain about the Gabbiani boys being egotistical morons or otherwise annoying. She wanted to ask her brothers how they could judge when they were no better but decided to keep her mouth sealed.

And then the eldest, she assumed, came in directly behind them. He had unruly sandy blond hair that went passed his ears in shaggy curls, deep purple eyes and a square face with a strong accent to his jaw and chin. His mouth seemed to be stuck in a half smile, complimented by mid-set cheek bones and a larger nose than found on most Figaro or Thamasan men. It was a trait found around Albrook, if she remembered correctly.

He wore a suit of polished silver armor as well, though it sat on a rich woolen red dress shirt and exposed chainmail. His trousers were a bit baggy and tucked into thick black boots that was made from the same material of his belt, where his leather gloves hung from a separate loop beside his sword. The armor itself possessed small cauldrons with an etched sigil of Miranda—where she heard the Gabbiani family currently lived—a falcon with its talons out. The same sigil appeared over the heart of his chest plate, where clips held a heavy cloak of red down his back.

She blinked dumbly at him. He was as handsome as anyone could be, and taller than her brothers, despite clearly being years younger (though she couldn't be sure how many). His eyes caught hers and that always-smile tugged a bit higher in acknowledgement of her. She could only faintly hear her father talking with Setzer, who was explaining why they were so late (they had meant to arrive two days prior) as her eyes remained on the young man across the table.

"The storms around Miranda haven't broken even now, but we couldn't miss this dinner, not this year. I hope you all can forgive our lateness?" he gave a half bow to the table; his boys followed promptly, while Maria curtsied with a grace earned through years and years of practice.

Edgar waved them to stand straight. "Nonsense, Setzer. There is no need to forgive you, we understand, truly. Please, please...be seated."

"But a moment, Edgar. Allow me the privilege of addressing your daughter, would you?" he said with a feigned roughness. He faced Emma. "It is a pleasure that cannot be described in finally meeting you, princess. Please...allow me to introduce you to my family. This is my lovely wife, Maria," he took her hand gently, kissed the knuckles and then gestured to the two young boys. "This is Angelo." the boy with cropped silver hair smirked at her. "And Loreto." the blond ducked his head in another bow. "Don't let them fool you, dear. Wolves in sheep skin, the lot of them. Ah, and this," he gestured to the tall lad to his left. "Is Alexander." the lad inclined his head softly toward her, his eyes ablaze with some strange emotion.

Emma faltered but quickly got up from her chair to curtsy to them. "Sers...it is an honor to meet you. Lady Maria," she inclined her head as far as acceptable for a woman who was not royalty and then promptly retook her seat. Her brothers coughed 'suck up' under their breath but she ignored them. Setzer laughed.

"Well are you not the prime example of a princess? Boys, what do you say?"

The one called Angelo smiled at her. "If you would but be mine...you could call me whatever you please, princess. I am yours to command."

She blinked at him, utterly confused. What else would I call you? She thought. "I—" she tried, but the other one started up, slightly shoving Angelo away greedily.

"—princess, if you would but give me a moment, you would see I am holding a flame for you that cannot be easily blown out. I would make you the finest husband, this I swear. We would live by the beaches and I would feed you figs and berries and sing you epics until you heard them all, and from there I would create them anew—just for your ears, for your pleasures." Loreto said, dropping to one knee. "My will is yours, princess."

"I confessed my undying love to her first, you lecher!" Angelo shoved his brother away.

"I am sure the princess wouldn't want your grubby hands pawing all over her!" Loreto snapped back and then they started pawing at each other, trying to get the other to cry uncle. Setzer immediately went to stopping them. He took Angelo by his arms and pulled him away while Loreto was dragged off by his eldest brother. Cambyses and Benjamin were laughing hysterically at the display, much to Alexander's obvious chagrin. Emma was still trying to figure out what had happened, oblivious to their intent and the dark expression that covered her father's face.

"Enough boys, enough!" Setzer snapped, shoving Angelo when the boy tried to jump towards his brother. "I said enough! You only hurt your chance with this childish display! Is that what you want?" they immediately stopped bickering and looked ashamed, though it did look faked. "Well, my boys, what do you say?"

"I'm sorry princess," they said in unison.

Upon their apology her father's face seemed to return and she weakly smiled at the boys, still not quit sure what happened. "It is forgiven, Loreto, Angelo, honest."

They beamed silently until Loreto shoved Angelo away and smiled at her. "You favored my apology more than his empty words, right my princess?" Emma couldn't help the girlish giggle that came from her lips then, much to the complete horror of her father. The older women giggled too, though it was due to Emma's reaction more than anything. "Ha! I got her to laugh!" he hooted. In the background, Jacen scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"I would advise you quit while you are ahead," the one named Alexander said as he grabbed Loreto by the collar of his armor and peeled him further away from the table. He then forced him into a chair beside Angelo and then took the only free chair left, which was just one seat down from her.

Emma froze, surprised by the height of the man as he advanced toward the chair. He is just as tall as father, she thought, as he unlatched his cloak and draped it across the back of his chair. As customary of a knight or any man armed with a sword arriving at a dinner, he took off his belt and hung it over his cloak, and then took a seat just as her father started talking. The smell of oils and deep woods wafted to her and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes; he caught her eyes with a charming lopsided smile and an amused look in his eyes. The look made her flustered. She looked away, heart drumming wildly in both fear and the unknown.

Her oldest brother muttered something foul under his breath about being too close to Alexander, and Emma realized there must have been bad blood between them.

"Now that we are all here and seated," her father said, smiling. "May the feast begin."

The food was pushed out then on rolling carts by butlers and maids. As she smelled earlier she saw a turkey at the center of the largest rolling cart, though it wasn't a very large one. The butlers placed the meats at the center of the table and encircled it with the bowls of dips or sauces like cranberry sauce and gravy, and then sat down the bowls of bread and vegetables and the potatoes. A large pie was sat aside, smelling of strawberries and sweetbread. The wine jug was placed beside the candle sticks with the jug of sweetjuice for the younger people, which Emma realized was just her, Ciri and the twins, since the others either already passed their land's rites or were accepted as adults due to foreign cultures or even given special consent from their parents.

The maids inclined themselves to her brothers with seductive smiles and gentle touches, oblivious to the disapproval and anger of Cadence. Emma wanted to gag at their choice of flirtations, such as cloyingly suggesting they would do whatever his highness wanted. Doesn't he noticed? She wondered, watching Cadence's cool blue eyes closely. They did not betray her to the table, remaining calm and collected, but Emma could tell by the way she kept her head straight and stiff—she was trying to withhold an outburst.

Emma tried to hold back a giggle at her brother's misfortune. Surely Cadence would punish him somehow after dinner and that pleased Emma greatly. He deserved to be knocked down a peg or two and put in line when it comes to his lady.

By then the butlers were serving the food, politely trying to ignore the discussion going on around the table. Emma asked for meat each time a butler came around the table but each time they denied her. She could not understand. Was there some custom she wasn't aware of in Figaro where men dined on the meat first? That seemed silly, so she looked around and saw that Cadence, Celes, Terra, Maria and Karin were having their plates topped with whatever choice of meat they wanted. Maybe it is because I am the youngest... but she could not see any evidence to support that claim and when the butler instead placed a bowl of potato soup on her plate before her, she frowned.

Was this some kind of joke?

She wanted to ask her mother but stopped halfway from opening her mouth. She didn't know how to ask at a formal dinner like this, and without getting giggles from her brothers. Her mother soon caught onto her daughter not engaging her food and motioned for her to eat. She knows I have this? she looked down at the soup with reluctance. She lifted the spoon, scooped some up and then made a face before dropping it back into the rest. She would starve! Surely her mother wouldn't be so cruel as to impose the strict healthy diet on such an important day? Was she not allowed even a scrap of meat?

She sighed and reached for her juice, hoping perhaps it would satiate her hunger until the next dish was served. It was sour and made her squint her eyes in disgust. It took several minutes of licking her lips and swallowing to rid herself of the aftertaste. She scooted the cup away next. What was up with the juice?

"Is the meal not up to your liking, princess?" Every nerve in her body froze over. The voice most definitely belonged to the tall lad beside her. She could not meet his eye. The next thing she knew he was discreetly placing a slice of meat on her plate while the table was distracted. Her eyes widened and she looked at him shyly. His smile greeted her and her cheeks heated up. "If you won't tell...I won't." he winked and went back to his meal.

She accepted his generosity with silence, though she knew it was impolite to just sit there like some frightened doe. She took her fork and glanced at him once again. "...t-thank you." he only chuckled as he sipped at his wine.

The discussion at the table was almost entirely random. There were a lot of heated debates between the adults—ending with laughter of course despite the varying differences in opinions—and jokes and stories, but to Emma's disappointment, not a single story of their time as the Returners. She had hoped she would learn more about it...why even Relm suggested one day she would be told amazing stories from their journeys. Wasn't that time now? It seemed appropriate to her.

Emma hadn't a moment of speaking, not even when her uncle asked her and her brothers what they were doing the past six months. Emma had tried to raise her hand to speak but over the bustle of her brothers, parents and others talking at once her hand and meek voice was not heard. Not until her father, wanting to impress his friends, looked at her after talking with his brother over the declining intelligence of the youth.

She hadn't been paying attention then—why should she?—so when her father said, "Emma?" it startled her. She looked up at him, eyes wide.

"What?" Her brother chuckled beside her.

Her father was patient though, still smiling. "Tell us about your time at Sunset."

"What is there to tell?" Benjamin asked, getting a sharp slap on the arm from their mother. Emma was acutely aware of Cadence looking at her, waiting, smiling. So was the lad beside her. She swallowed back a denial to speak and tried to think of the most important parts of her time at Sunset. It was all easily overshadowed in her mind's eye by the hurtful or unimportant, such as Kysle or breezing through the classes.

Very much flustered, she said, "It...it has been nice." clearly thinking there was more, the table was quiet. What do I tell them? I'm not important...nothing I do is and it isn't even remotely interesting. "I...I was pr-promoted to second year already, so I...I get t-t-to head phis..physa...physical—" her fumbling caused her brothers to smirk. "—assignments like archy...archeology sites and—"

"You mean you dig up bodies?" her cousin, Ardel, asked, awed.

"Well...n-no, but we do practice on previous dig sites near the desert. We f-f-found a fossil once, of an ancient creature that used to live in the desert when it was a grassland." she was sure that was boring to them, but the table—excluding her parents and brothers, who already knew the extent of her intelligence—was pleasantly surprised and interested by it.

"The desert used to be a grassland? Like in the Veldt?" Locke asked.

"Yes, b-before the w-w-western mountains became what they are, r-r-rain could reach the land."

Sabin looked honestly puzzled. "So the mountains just sprang up all of the sudden and did what?"

Emma smiled. "No, no...not all of the sudden. Some scholars sus-suspect tec-tectonic plates shifted, causing one plate to push under the other, creating the mountains. Others believe the d-deserts formed because of temperature c-changes."

Cambyses glowered. "And how could a mountain create a desert, exactly?"

Oblivious to the anger in his tone, she explained, not really aware she captivated the table. "Professor Elion told us about this process called rain shadow effect. It is when rain hits on one side of the mountain but cannot u-u-usually get to the other side. The lack of rainfall makes the land on the other side a-a-arid. That's—that's just one theory, though."

Cambyses asked, "We aren't surrounded by mountains anymore, or have you not looked at a map recently?"

She blushed. "I...I know."

"Then what will happen now? Will the desert remain? Will it change?"

She looked at the questioning stares of the people at the table and looked at her brother. "I...I don't know."

"That's all the professors can say as well, 'I don't know'. All the rain shadow effect is is a theory. Let's keep fantasies out of reality when we are at the table, please."

Cadence scowled at Cambyses. "If I am made to listen to yet another recalling of yet another fist fight you had Cambyses, I don't see why we can't have a little 'fantasy'." the women giggled and the men avoided looking at him, which made him turn pink all over.

"Well, I for one, found it interesting," Alexander said, sipping at his wine. "Theories or not."

"Yes, so did I," Jacen said.

She smiled at that. Edgar was pleased enormously by it. "It goes to show just how dedicated my daughter is at learning. Many things were once theories laughed at," he looked at his son with a not so discreet 'don't do that again' look. "but we now accept them as scientific fact. Perhaps your sister will be the one to figure out the weight of this theory." he gave his daughter a little encouraging wink.

She opened her mouth to continue where she left off but her brother intercepted the discussion and turned it toward an 'adult matter', which she knew was on purpose. It was to keep her from talking. It was about what to do about the political reform happening in Tzen as the Crown. Edgar was more inclined to let it ride out, stating it was their right to anoint their lords and barons, but Cambyses suggested setting a foot down and picking someone who was more aligned with the Crown than their own self interests.

Emma puffed angrily as the discussion gradually turned into one about the Antlion celebration. Her brother was a master at controlling discussions. Who cared about men battling giant insects? Apparently I do, she thought. Why do men think they are so much better than us? What can they do that I can't do? Her mind's eye filled with all the things she couldn't do that almost every man could do (mostly physical activity) and frowned. That's not so impressive! There are far more important things.

"The largest Antlion caught was one hundred seventy pounds," Benjamin said. "That was by our great, great grandfather, right father?"

"If my memory recalls it right, yes. Sabin?"

"I think it was ten more than that," Sabin muttered, rubbing at his bushy chin.

"I hope to beat that catch," Benjamin said with a wide smile.

"I'm sure you will," Terra said sweetly. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Not unless I beat it first," Camb laughed. "I'll earn a gold mark in every competition."

As they droned on about who would beat who, Terra glanced over at her daughter and noticed just how annoyed she looked splashing her spoon around her soup. She knew her daughter did not like the idea of the race more than anyone she had ever met, but did she truly hate it so much that she could not even stand the talk of it? Certainly there was some aspect of the celebration she was excited for? Terra tried to recall all of the details that women could be involved in and knew much of it was just about serving or preparing the fun or exciting parts for the men. That most certainly was it, but didn't her daughter understand she didn't have to do anything? Many women, not most of course, kept their involvement minimum or not at all.

Celes leaned over the space between their chairs and whispered, "What is going on with your daughter?"

Terra sighed. "She doesn't wish to participate in the race, and would rather never hear about it."

"I do not blame her," Celes muttered, almost angrily. "Figaro is plenty full of backwards traditions that impose on women most of all. To even consider walking around like some servant, some wench, is degrading."

"But Celes, that is not all there is to the race."

"It is for women," she said sharply. "Why should she have to run about like some slave while they have their games and fun? It is wrong."

"Celes you know that most women participate of their own free will and enjoy it. No one is forcing her to do anything."

"That's just it," Maria said, leaning toward them from her seat. "They are. Her position as the princess almost certainly requires her to go with tradition."

Terra made a face. "There are rites for women, too, you know this. She will have her time."

"Dependent on men," Celes added.

"It is important to them." Terra said, glancing at her husband and sons. "Why does it sting you so that they do something important to them?"

Cadence added her opinion. "I think it worries her. Her only significance in this is that she will be made no more than a slave for her brothers. I could not imagine the most important parts of my life being something that makes the lives of others better because they were men. I could not stand it if the only thing I was able to do was please a man in order to succeed."

Terra had never thought about it like that, but looking at her daughter, she could feel that it was close to the reason she was upset if not it entirely. She and Edgar were trying to make changes to how women are treated in under the Crown, but it was extremely difficult with the deeply rooted culture they had and lords set against the idea of women becoming more independent, a part of the workforce and nature of the world beyond aesthetics and out-of-the-way slavework.

"I understand," she whispered. "But couldn't she at least fake to be happy for her brothers? They have been waiting for this day for years. Regardless of how she feels shouldn't she want them to be happy?" the women were quiet, conflicted on their answers.

Maria offered a way out of the discussion, almost. "In Miranda the men simply have to age and show responsibility to be considered a man. If only it were like that everywhere, the same with women."

"Some would say that is too easy," Terra giggled.

Maria smiled. "True, but the smarter men would accept it as the wiser decision." the women shared a laugh over it until Maria caught sight of her eldest son speaking to the princess, who kept her eyes glued on the table even when she replied meekly. "Oh, no."

"What?" Terra asked, following her gaze. When she spotted her daughter engaged in a quiet discussion with Alexander, she frowned. "What is wrong?" she couldn't see anything that deserved such a reaction.

"Terra, do you forget who that is?" Celes asked. Cadence sighed.

"Oh...he wouldn't." Terra said, watching, feeling uneasy the longer she stared. Alexander reached out brushed fingers with Emma's and Terra glanced to her husband, to make sure he hadn't seen. Good. She faced Cadence. "Gods, he is stupid enough to try, isn't he?"

The woman shook her head. "I don't think he would, not when I expressed how I would flay him alive if he said anything inappropriate to her or acted a buffoon at the dinner."

Maria sipped at her wine. "My son finds challenge in things he is not supposed to do Cadence, you know this."

"Oh, no," Terra repeated the earlier words. "Should I separate them? Edgar would be so furious if he said anything to her...oh and I would have to clean up the mess afterward, and I just don't know how to deal with that."

Celes started to laugh again, luckily it was ignored from the men and the girl they were talking about. "What is the worse that could happen? He is only talking to her. It isn't like he could have her right here—"

"Celes, please!" Terra hissed, glancing over at her husband, worried he heard. "That is my daughter you are talking about, you know." the woman offered an apology. "Are you sure you got the message across to him, Cadence?"

The young woman nodded. "I am positive. I put a fear in him he won't be able to shake easily." The current talk stole everyone's attention before Terra could reply.

Cambyses had his hands cupped and tucked under his chin as he talked to his father over the current progression of a project they had been stuck on for three years due to the lack of proper funding.

"North Figaro must be built, this we know," he said. "Population has gone beyond what South Figaro can adequately sustain. Any land free belongs to the Crown, and needs to be preserved for future use, so we cannot allow South Figaro to expand on this land. Funding is the primary problem we face with the project, and I have been thinking on it. What if we raised taxes on the rich lords and barons, say in Jidoor? There is no reason they could not be taxed for, say, a year or two, to make up the cost. On the third we would have the funds necessary to build and can then return their taxes to a normal rate. Three years and the idea of North Figaro is a reality."

Edgar thought for a moment, and then asked, "Why would they accept a higher tax? Why should they? It is unwise to tax a man simply because he is more fortunate than others, don't you agree?"

"Yes, and to quell their anger we could put a higher land tax on the poorer people, namely the farmers. A once a year tax, instead of every three months, for a year straight. It would just be that the rich will carry most of the burden. We could incentivize them to agree to these terms by giving them some land in North Figaro once it has been completed. The plot we have selected to start on is plenty healthy for farming and with it being so close to the ocean, it could make it a prime spot for people to take a vacation at."

"But," Sabin said, rubbing his cheeks. "You are asking the poor to carry an even greater weight on their backs when they are already struggling, when the economy cannot yet support them, yet you would expect them to pay this tax increase? Willingly?"

For a second it looked like he was going to stammer, but he coolly replied, "If the distribution goes smoothly—that is if the Council doesn't decide to get greedy again—a rush of new opportunities will present themselves. Business can spring up in South Figaro due to the moving of other companies. Positions full would have empty seats. There would be an influx of new jobs, gradual, but certain. We have seen it happen in Tzen and Mobliz both in the last decade due to the expansion of Nikeah and Kohlingen."

"But this delay for benefits would do no more than dissuade them than persuade them. How can you get them to agree if the benefits are years from now?"

"There would most definitely be benefits early on," Cambyses said. "The larger goals would not be met for a while, this much is true, but it is a price we—and they—will have to make for the greater good. When the funds have been re-earned through North Figaro, we can issue a refund to the poor...a reasonable amount, of course."

Edgar was quiet for a long moment, contemplating. "You have clearly given this considerable thought," he said, earning his son's proud smile. "I am glad the amount of money I poured into Golden Lion has not been wasted. I did not think you had this in you so early Cambyses, but I am extremely proud of you my son." Cambyses was obviously pleased by the statement, practically burning like the sun. "But you haven't considered the effect it would have here in Figaro or properly weighed the risks with the rewards. Can you truly put the livelihood of so many against such a high risk for reward that can very likely fail?" the prince was quiet. "What if the poor rise up with their frustrations no longer verbal outrage? What if riots form?

"Our promise of a refund will be more than enough to quell their frustrations. I'm not saying we place a hold on their lives father...a simple raise is all I suggest. I know it will work because the Crown did something very similar before, with the aforementioned cities, and now they are some of the richest places on the planet. The poverty is at a manageable number. It will work, it will just anger some people for a while."

The table was quieted by the suggestion. Edgar nodded, very slowly. "Your growth into a young man is impressive, son, and so are your suggestions. I dare say the council would hear of them with attentive ears."

Emma was staring at her father in complete disbelief. How can father consider such a risky plan? Why would he even consider putting more on the shoulders of people who cannot bare it and then turn around and unfairly tax the rich for their blessings? There are many ways to earn the funds for North Figaro without angering anyone or disrupting anyone's livelihoods. She looked at her brother, questioning him entirely. He is thinking only of the benefit of the Crown, which is blinding him and rational thought. Jidoor and Albrook are in the top three richest places on the planet that are already overtaxed due to their hard work...they would never accept this proposal. Where is the representation of these people? You cannot impose new taxes on people without speaking with them first...it will cause a revolution.

"...why not just increase the taxes on imports?" Benjamin suggested. "More than enough cities, even the poorest, import. They receive and send thousands of pounds worth of merchandise across the globe, earning gil without sharing a coin of it with the Crown. The kings of old used to tax imports and it was considered quite a golden age, then."

Emma opened her mouth to shoot down such a suggestion but her father laughed. "An equally promising suggestion, son, but there is a reason the Crown abandoned such taxes. It was too much too often for them to hold onto. The golden age you refer to lasted for only a few decades before a recession occurred that very nearly triggered civil war."

"It wouldn't have to be as much as they taxed then," he clarified. "Something reasonable could see us hit our goal in about five years. I doubt anyone would complain much."

This time she just couldn't understand how any of them thought these suggestions were worth much but words in the wind. History showed such courses of action only led to problems. If we work with representatives from Jidoor and Albrook, even Miranda, over a new and temporary tax increase we could easily meet the funds needed... she looked at her father. Will he even listen to me? Her hands tightened at her sides.

Alexander caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his attention to her and off the princes. He could see frustration building in her eyes and knew the likely outcome of it failing. He didn't care for Figaro and its traditions and culture—he made that clear to anyone willing to listen—but he knew that the repercussions, social or not, of ignoring them would more than be felt by the girl if she broke them. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he caught sight of a royal spawn acting out publicly like some spoiled child, so he recognized the failing restraint of the girl instantly.

She was such a sweet looking girl that he didn't wish to see the outcome. It would pain him to see her cry. Such beautiful eyes should stay clear and on him, or clear so he could see them. Do not do it, he silently begged, wrestling with the idea to reach out and stop her. Keep your hands down, girl.

Her hand hesitantly raised above her head, catching her father's attention instantly as well as the rest of the table. Besides the lack of color to his face, Edgar calmly asked what it was she wanted. The representatives of the council stood in their line by the wall with light in their eyes, waiting.

She looked at her brother for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to say it, and then took a breath. "What if you look for rep..representatives from Jidoor and Albrook willing to ne-negotiate tax raises gradually for a year or two? The p-p-people have always resp-responded better when they are given a v-voice...and this way not so many people will get m-mad. You would have the funds in t-t-two years easily by adjusting marginal taxes by four percent, instead of a s-s-substantial increases across all..." she let her voice die out at the end, suddenly aware that every single eye in the room was on her, even the men from the council.

Her father's face was pale now, as if he would faint any moment. Too shocked to say anything and watching her with wide eyes, he relaxed into his chair quietly. It was clear to any in the room, except maybe the children too young to understand, that her plan was far more elegant than her brother's. Both would definitely see the rewards they hoped for, but hers was just...simple, but saying it out loud, when she was not even allowed to enter the discussion, in front of the men from the council only undermined his authority, and that of his heir, whoever it was out of the two boys. Edgar blinked dumbly and then looked at his eldest son. The lad's face was turning red and Edgar knew the young man would say something stupid, something that would no doubt cause a fight.

Cambyses would not let it slide. He would not be so easily humiliated in front of his family and Cadence, not in front of the dogs of the council—not without retaliation. Not by his baby sister. He only knew the fury mounting in his heart. "How cute," he said. "Emma thinks she is an adult." but perhaps his comment, in a fit of rage, was not worth the angered stare from Cadence.

Emma's response stunned him though. "At least I am not begging father for a chance at playing adult in my middle twenties." Setzer, Locke and Alexander were trying their hardest not to laugh.

He shrugged from his spot in his chair, face on fire. "At least I do not look like a goblin."

"Cambyses!" his parents both shouted. "Apologize to your sister right now!" his father barked.

"But she started it!"

Edgar would not have this at the table. He stood rigid before his chair. Terra was trying to calm him back into sitting. "And as an adult you are expected to end it, not fuel it! Is this what you will do as you age? Follow in a child's footsteps?!"

Cambyses looked away from his burning eyes toward his empty dish. "No...you are right father; I was being childish." he turned his eyes to his sister, who was sniffling. "I am sorry Emma...I took it too far."

And then her father turned to her, pleased with his son's words and said, "And you will be quiet from now when we talk, is that understood? A child must know their place Emma and that is what you are."

She gaped at him. "But—"

"—There will be no arguing, girl! This was a discussion between adults!"

"I just wanted to share what I—"

"—Emma!" he snapped and she looked away, knuckling tears away. And then he settled back into his chair and fixed his shirt, ignoring the stares from the other parents, even his wife. "I wanted this dinner to be done right, as it is a special night, but my children have behaved as mere children." he spared a wicked glance at his daughter and the tears came quicker to her eyes. "I did not want to announce this as if it were nothing important, but the night grows late and I grow tired...leaving me no choice." he cleared his throat. "I have named my successor." Everyone at the table burst into talk, some heated some awed and others surprised. "Tonight played a large factor in determining who was ready to lead should I fall before I can pick an heir, or who shall sit on the throne once I have retired, but know now that it was not the only deciding factor. It took me months of thought, even more time thinking on what I came up with during those long months, but I feel I have made the right choice." he raised a wine cup to the crowd. "My successor will be no other than my first born son, Cambyses Damocles Figaro, First of his Name." the room erupted in the thunderous applaud of approval as the young prince stood, shocked beyond words.

Emma recalled her father's words and her eyes went wide. Is this what he meant? Is this what he decided to do? It was predeclared, most definitely. Why is he lying to everyone?! She thought, ears ringing. Tonight was decided long before Camb opened his fat mouth! Now she was furious.

Camb bowed deeply for his father, tears in his eyes. "Thank you father. I swear on my life I will do whatever it takes to keep Figaro and her people safe and prosperous. I will not disappoint you." he sat back down, still too shocked to really understand what was happening. He thought only the Antlion race would be announced!

Edgar smiled. "I do not doubt you, my son. Your mother and I are very proud of you and the progress you have made from that little boy we remember. Tonight you showed me you are more than capable of thinking ahead and for the good of the Crown, with a passion to lead her towards a bright future, to keep her people happy and prosperous. The only thing that worries me is your temper; a man most always acknowledge his temper, but a king must learn to forget it entirely, especially around his family...especially concerning his sisters."

Emma got to her feet, stumbling just a bit, tears streaming down her face. "That isn't any fair, father!"

Edgar was not in the mood. He pointed to her seat. "Emma, sit back down and be quiet. We will discuss this later, privately."

Clearly she was not going to listen as she continued on. "He is a child too, for now at l-l-least, and his ideas—they were bad! Well, um, not b-bad but it would be too much to ask of them, it would cause too many—"

"I told you to sit down!" Edgar ordered, once again standing, face stiff with controlled anger. "Now."

Very much flustered, and beyond hurt, she cried out, "No! Why won't you listen to me? I'm...I'm trying to say that I, uhh, that I don't understand why he was picked. My idea...it...it was better! Camb only cares about himself! How is he g-g-going to protect this kingdom?"

"Emma," her father warned, hands tightening.

Benjamin laughed. "Well, father knows better than to plant a stuttering moron at the head of a country. That is why."

Emma took her cup and threw it across the table; it broke harmlessly across the chest of his armor but before anyone could react, she stole the cup right out of Alexander's hands—he got a quick 'Wait!' out first—and threw it. This time it shattered against his face, knocking him to his back onto the floor. The room was in a frenzy immediately, though Setzer couldn't stop laughing.

Terra had shouted and went to him quickly while Edgar screamed for his daughter to calm down, but she was already fleeing the room. When she slammed the doors behind her, Benjamin was being lifted up by his brother and was in near tears. "She could have killed me! She's crazy!"

"For what you said you are very lucky I do not add to it!" Edgar howled, causing his son to look away. "This dinner is over. You may all retire." and then he stormed off through the opposite side of the great hall, in exactly the same manner as his daughter had. Everyone started to file out of the room entirely awkwardly, while Terra lingered behind, thinking. Celes slowed and asked her what was wrong.

"It is Emma...I must speak with her, but...but I am unsure of how to proceed with it. I have never done this before. Would...would you accompany me, please?"

Celes smiled as she reached for her friend's arm. "Of course I will, Terra."

For the longest time their search of the castle came up empty, with sightings repeated by guards or late duty maids, but it took the knowledge of a mother to know where her daughter had finally run off too. It was easy to conclude when her room was vacant and the library doors still remained . Terra knew where her daughter had gone; to the gardens outside the eastern entrance. It was there she was found, hidden under the dark shade of the desert willow and beside a twisting stream of crystal clear water. She was busy ripping grass out of the garden bed absentmindedly to notice them, staring at the water rippling from the night's wind.

Her face was stricken in tears and her eyes swollen and red, with snot dripping from her nose. She was so easily upset and so easily expelled that feeling that it only seemed natural to Terra. She paused their approach and whispered to her friend.

"Celes...we must proceed carefully. Everything you say must be considered closely before you actually say it."

"Terra—"

"She is a very difficult person to talk to," she went on.

"However do you mean by 'difficult'?" Celes envisioned a baby in her mind's eye and shook it away. She would not believe that is what her friend meant. The girl clearly was intelligent, beyond what Celes herself could rightfully say was natural for her age. "Terra?"

Terra hesitated. "Well...it is so very hard to explain Celes. Sometimes when you talk to her it is like she doesn't even know you are there, other times it is like she cannot understand anything outside of her own focus. It is a feat of its own to get her to even listen. You will understand what I mean, I am sure."

"I'm sure we can handle it," Celes answered and started toward the princess. When they neared, Terra knelt beside her daughter and touched her shoulder. She was quickly taken into a hug often given by frightened children, freshly awoken by a nightmare.

"Oh, my sweet girl, my sweet little girl...do not cry, all will be fine, do not cry."

"No it w-w-won't," she sniffed, running a hand over her red eyes. "Father hates me. He never listens to me and—and Camb and Ben get to t-treat me however they want. It—it isn't any fair, it isn't!"

Terra brushed loose hair from her face. "I know it feels that way right now but I promise you that your father adores you. He was not ignoring you because he hates you, he wasn't even ignoring you. He heard you Emma, very clearly, and he was extremely proud of your idea."

She sniffed. "He...he was?"

"He was, but you must understand that this isn't Thamasa. You aren't talking to your father when he is like that—you are talking to your king. You must listen to your king, Emma, always. If you do not, you weaken a link that costs the whole chain its integrity." she hesitated, unsure if her daughter understood, and then said, "I have seen your brothers treat you ways I wish I never have. I have seen it and so has your father, and we intend to put a stop to it."

"That isn't true," she muttered. "He never listens to me. Never. And he never says anything about—about what they do to me. And tonight...tonight he lied! He picked Camb even before the dinner, didn't he? He didn't consider me...he didn't consider Ben. He lied! He's a liar!" she broke off into a sob.

Sensing that Terra did not know what else to say, or at least how to begin again, Celes took a spot in the grass beside the girl and took the girl's tiny hand in hers. "Emma, would you look at me for a moment, please?" the girl looked at her through reddened eyes of absolute grief. "You must understand that your father loves you more than you can ever possibly imagine. You will not know this kind of love until you have held your child in your arms. You will hang onto everything that child ever says, ever does, ever thinks. You will never want to let that child go, not ever. It is a love that cannot be described, that cannot so easily be let go or forgotten. Your father will always love you, no matter what you say or do or what you don't say and don't do—this is written in stone—but what you did back there undermined him as your father and your king. It was disrespectful. It was wrong. And even though you hadn't meant it that way, even though your ideas were worth considering, all you gave to that situation was your inability to listen to your father and your king. He may have yelled at you for it, but it does not mean he loves you any less than his brothers."

She rubbed her forearm under her snotty nose. "W-w-what did I do wrong?" she asked. "I raised my hand and waited, just—just like I was taught. How was it wrong?"

Was this what Terra had meant? Celes looked the poor girl in her eyes and wanted to squeeze the life out of her. She was just so precious!

"I know it hurts to be silenced Emma, but it doesn't mean he wasn't listening as your father, just not as your king. It was wrong because your father and king told you to do something and you not only ignored him, you undermined the man he was about to name as heir to the throne, in front of men of the council—men who wish for nothing more than to seize control of the Crown through whatever means they can. You are a child and a girl and was allowed to question your father's authority and that of the future king. How do you think the council will react to that? They will twist what they must and tell the world that the king of Figaro allowed a child, a girl of all things, to speak out as she pleased without consequences. Your father was harsh to try and stop you before you went to far, before the damage could be done. In the future there will be a day when you can talk as freely as your brothers at that table—it could be during your father's rule or during your brother's rule—but right now...you must behave as a daughter and princess of Figaro, not however you feel."

Though she seemed to be calming down, the tears still came. "Really? I won't be ignored?"

"Really, Emma," she confirmed with a bright smile. "I know this because it happens even within my family, with my son. In a way. He is a child and he must listen, respect and obey his parents. Once he is older things will change, generally. Give it time and your counsel will be what they both seek day and night—this I promise you. You have an intelligence many can only dream of, dear."

She quiet, thinking, and then smiled weakly. "But when?"

Terra looked her friend straight in the eyes, a pleading look on her face, and Celes laughed. "Well, it really depends on your age, I suppose. How old are you right now?"

"Thirteen," she answered and then added—embarrassed that she admitted her age—quickly, "I'll be fourteen soon though."

"If I remember my Figaro traditions correctly, then you aren't all that off, I suppose. In Figaro a girl becomes a woman at the age of fifteen, usually, but it isn't entirely relative to age so much as bodily changes." Emma's brows furrowed in confusion. "There are also, of course, several customs to battle through but you will get through those just fine, I think." she laughed a little, nervously. "But you don't want to grow up too fast Emma. You can only be a child once, there are no redos. What you will of it is what you will remember down the road, when you are old and wise. And who wants to be an adult when you can be young again, experiencing life for the first time all over again? Do not rush this Emma...it is too precious to throw away and you will only regret it."

Emma surprised both the women by leaning over to hug the woman. "Thank you, Lady Cole, thank you." she was still crying, though this time it was out of gratitude and happiness. "Thank you."

Terra mouthed a 'thank you' to her friend silently and then helped her daughter to her feet, clearing away her tears with a spare handkerchief. "Now, my sweet girl, it is late and you need your rest. Your future is bright but it can only be that way if you are ready to face it, and not even the Gods can make it so without your help." Emma giggled, hugged her tightly and then dashed in through the doors in an obviously better mood. Terra sighed heavily. "She's going to bug me until I give her more details about the customs. Oh, why can't they just stop growing? Where are my little babies? Why must they be in such a hurry to grow up and leave me?" although Celes could sense her friend honestly was proud and happy her children were growing, she could see a deep pain in Terra's eyes.

"It will be fine Terra." she took her hand. "Daughters are different than sons; they grow but they never truly wish to separate from the family like a man does when he wants to start a new one. You know this." Terra nodded silently, sure but still not sure. " What does Edgar say about this?"

Terra shook her head. "He fled the room as if something foul had been said." the two women shared a happy laugh over that.

The morning after the annual dinner, before even her loud brothers woke or even the likes of her early bird father, she swiftly carried through her daily morning tasks. She dressed her desert excavation clothing—a gift from Gau and Relm—so that she could not be bothered by the terrain or heat of the desert. It was light and a pale yellow, just like the sand and the stony, arid plains of Figaro. Now all she needed was her flat hat! She ran to the hooks off the wall just beside her closet door and sprang up on her feet several times to reach the hook just a half foot above her. The last attempt knocked the hat free and she caught it just before it hit the ground. And then, satisfied she was clothed appropriately, she ran down to the kitchen.

As she suspected her mother was awake, sipping quietly at her morning tea as she watched the dark blue sky awaken to a golden hue. Unwilling to ruin her mother's morning, Emma quietly dug through the table's set baskets for all the bread she could carry in her leather bag and then headed for the storage room, where the dried foods were stored. She tore through the sealed boxes, took a few jars of dried meat and tucked it into the bag beside her art supplies. She knew that her mother would not approve of her wandering the desert alone—she still remembered the last time when twenty men accompanied her!—she snuck right by her and the guards patrolling the southern gate.

The first time she had entered the desert alone—she got a sound talking to after she came back and a smart burn on her backside—it was only a few weeks after she moved to Figaro. The trek was not long if you knew how to traverse the natural landmarks, or even the stars, if it were night. She had no destination in mind that day, so there was no need to use landmarks to trek further in, but when she discovered a strange kind of beetle, the Sangi beetle, she just had to follow it. It seemed to know where it was going, forming a straight line of huge, spiky bodies. When she arrived at what seemed to be their destination, she was in complete awe.

A beautiful oasis with towering willows, palm trees and thick shrubbery and cacti. A huge chunk of red rock, like clay almost, ripped out of the ground some way in the distance and continued on to the oasis, brining a beautiful waterfall of crystal blue beauty into a large, almost perfectly oblong body of water. A large ledge made of the same red rock hung over the pool, giving a perfect spot to sit under some shade or to some, a great natural diving board.

And it had been her spot since. Not once had she seen anyone arrive nor any sign of human life. It was isolated and pure, like the secret places she called her own in the Thamasan coniferous forests or the hidden caves along the shores of the castle, or even the tunnels some strange creature created and abandoned near the mountains. This oasis was not as exciting as walking through the tall giants of Thamasa or the drippy, cold caves of a shore, but it was beautiful and gave her plenty to sketch or watch. The best part was the sunlight; it always seemed brilliant.

That sunlight made it an ideal place to sketch, so she took a spot on the ledge (though a good distance away from the plummet into water!) and dug through her leather bag for her supplies. During the process, the shrubbery to her right shuffled and a desert fox, the color of the red rocks, nervously came out, watching her with beautiful bronze eyes.

She smiled at him and reached for a jar of dried meat..

••••••••••••

The heat was unbearable. Who could choose to live in such a damnable place? He swore aloud and paused, finding himself standing in the middle of a scorching desert. His sneaky bastards of brothers! They had told him, with what he conceived as sincere expressions, that they saw the princess of Figaro leave through the southern gate while they were atop the aerodome fixing a broken mechanism. He had believed them instantly but it took twenty minutes of walking, at the least, for him to realize that his brothers had played him so perhaps they could spend some time with the girl themselves. He wanted to ring their necks, if it wasn't for the fact that he was also very proud of them. They had learned from the best! "What sneaky bastards..." he chuckled, deciding to call it a day and head back when suddenly he heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard resounding around him as if it were the breeze itself—laughter. And it was such genuine laughter, soft and happy.

Curious if perhaps the heat made him sand crazy he followed the direction he believed it originated from, stumbling over small dunes or rocky ledges. When he neared a smaller rolling hill of sand and rock, he dripped over the top and rolled down the other side, landing right on his arm. He grumbled as he sat up, dusting himself off. Curse this damn desert! Curse it! But when he looked up he froze. A beautiful oasis sat before him, its glittering blue waterfall inviting him with its shine. Palm trees, coconuts growing strong amongst the leaves, littered the outer portions of a collection of trees and shrubs.

He supposed the trip wasn't all that wasted. At least he would fine a fine, cool drink and a moment's rest out of the sun before returning to the outer walls of the castle due north. He started his way through the trees, mumbling under his breath at the spiky branches that pricked him, until he stumbled into a clearing beside a large ledge. His eyes widened at what he now saw. It was the princess! But what was she doing so far south of the castle? He expected her to be playing about the dunes closer to the gate, but here she was, feeding wild foxes straight from her hand and giggling over their antics as they wrestled about or licked her fingers.

So she was the source of the laughter, he thought with a smile. It had to have been her. He rubbed a hand under his nose, clearing away the last of the sand, and adjusted his hair so it wasn't so disheveled and pressed forward.

As he approached, unintentionally as quiet as a mouse, her laughter doubled over, for one of the foxes lost its hold on her boot and fumbled, smacking its head straight into the ground only to bounce back on its feet and attack the others in a fit. When the last of the dried meat was gone and the fox was done licking her hands, it went snooping through her art bag and found a long yellow scarf it pulled free of its home. The princess reached for it, scolding the fox, and folded the scarf back into the protective shield of the art bag. "You will behave yourself, little one." she shooed him away until he finally got the picture and joined his brothers in their brawl.

Alex was afraid that if he didn't come forward that instant he would want to watch her in silence even longer, to listen to her laughter and watch those beautiful eyes just for a second longer. Gods be good, he thought. How can someone be this...this captivating? She wasn't the prettiest girl he had ever seen, not like Cadence or her mother or even the queen, but it was a beauty nonetheless that strangely pulled at his heart. He smiled. "Sometimes I find myself in constant awe of the creation of Gods."

The foxes scattered into the bushes and she jumped to her feet in fear, until her eyes caught him and she relaxed. Even though her expression shifted from fear into irritation, her hand was gripping her paintbrush as if it were a weapon. "W-what are you doing here?" he corked an eyebrow at her.

"Please, princess, there is no need for that," he gestured offhandedly to her 'weapon', eyes still on hers. "I am sure you recognize me? From the annual dinner? I wouldn't ever mean you any harm."

Her eyes narrowed in anger. "I know who you are." the grip over the paintbrush never relented. "Leave this place at once." even her authoritative voice was adorable!

Ignoring her demands, he said, "May I ask you something?" as he waited for an answer, he scanned the area and spotted a book lying on the ground just opposite of where she had been sitting. "What would the king and queen, your parents, think if they heard their precious and only daughter was out wandering the desert all alone? I daresay they would be more than worried."

Her mixed colored eyes darkened with annoyance. He couldn't figure out if he was the cause, though, or if it was the mentioning of her parents. "I do not care for what they would think, now leave!"

"Are you not even a little worried, yourself? Many men and women go missing in the desert of Figaro, amongst the rocky plains, the rolling dunes or the plateaus. Animals and monsters more ferocious than you can imagine roam these lands, dear princess. Does not that bother you, even a little? And what would happen if you were to get lost? How would you manage your way home? Or what if someone found you and kidnapped you for ransom against the Crown?"

"I know how to navigate the desert!" she shouted hotly, insulted.

She has a temper...how interesting. He nodded, as if he knew that all along. "Why, of course you do. You are, after all, the princess of a desert. Who could imagine such a girl would not know how to navigate it? A mere common folk such as myself should never had assumed. If it please you," he bowed majestically. "I would beg for your forgiveness, your highness." He was playing with her now, but she did not seem to understand the intent of his words or sense the mild flirtations behind it.

Her eyes were still in that dreadfully cute glare though. Her sharp tongue though...was not so cute. "Yes, who are you to question me? You are but a pledged man to my father! So go back to where you came from!"

Such a cute face with such an unattractive way of talking...what a shame. He thought, pissed now. He would not let her have her way in thinking he was, nor anyone else, lesser than she. "Now you look here girl—" her eyes widened at that, clearly never having been talked to like that by someone other than her family or royalty. "—as cute as you are, I will not tolerate anyone insulting me for how I was born and raised. I may not be a prince or high lord but I can assure you now that most commoners possess more decency in one finger than the entirety of your 'honorable' family. I am not something you can put under your feet whenever you feel like it."

Her expression softened, ashamed. "That's...that's not what I meant."

"Oh?" he tested, frowning. "It sounded very much like what Peter the III, the Undefeated, often recited to his nobles and common folk alive. And where exactly is the place I should 'go back to'? Is it the castle, the slums? I shouldn't have expected the princess to not harbor resentment or hatred of the poorer folk."

A smile cracked her face and he wondered if being out in the sun cooked the girl's brain. "Peter the Undefeated was Peter the IV," she said through a weakish giggle. "And I...I just meant that you are pledged to my father, a bannerman of the crown, so you...you would have to listen to those your lords forsworn you to and that you had to leave..."

A blush swept across his face. He always thought he was quite good at remembering his historical figures, but his arrogance led him to his ignorance, which in turned caused him to accuse the princess of Figaro of something—which was, according to ancient law people just didn't pay attention to anymore, unlawful. Punishment of death or severe torture, at the least. He laughed, dryly, and knelt on one knee to her. To his surprise she looked horrified and equally embarrassed. "Please, accept my most sincerest of apologies, my princess. I have been under the influence of this damnable sun for too long."

She hurried over and helped him up, shyly. "You don't have to bow...please just get up." she tried to lift him, but he was like a stubborn boulder. "Please."

He snatched her hands and lifted them to his lips, causing heat to rise to her cheeks. He kissed her knuckles gently. "Your generosity burns at my soul, my princess." he kissed them again, longer this time. She tugged her hands away quickly and tucked them behind her back as she stepped away.

"Just...just don't tell anyone of this place, please."

My, my...he thought, standing. She is a shy one. "I would not dream of betraying your trust." he laid a hand over his heart. "The secret will be kept until the end of my days."

She relaxed, though the shade that looked oh so charming to him remained on her cheeks. "Then please leave already."

"And leave the princess of Figaro alone, out here? I daresay I would be skinned for even thinking it!" his eyes caught sight of the book she was trying to desperately hid behind her and smiled. "I shall stay until you decide to leave. I am honor bound, after all." she looked away for a moment, as if thinking of a better way to remove him from her sight, and he took the chance to snatch the book off the rock she had been sitting on earlier.

She gasped and leapt for it even as he raised it over her reachable height. Curious as to what could be inside, he corked an eyebrow at her. "And what, my dearest of princesses, is within this book you wouldn't like me to see?"

She tried to reach for the book with a growl, but it seemed hundreds of miles above her. She tippy-toed, as much as she could, but it still did not help her. "Give it back to me this in-in-instant!"

"I am rather curious," he said, opening the book, even as she struggled to reach his hands by grabbing at one of his elbows and yanking down. It was a sketch book, with unbelievably detailed impressions of plants and wildlife, to people and scenery. He had expected a diary—it was extremely common for girls, especially her age—but this was beyond words. Each page contained a sketch rendered in the most skilled hand he had ever seen before. He flipped through the pages, ignoring her shouts to 'stop that!, until he reached a sketch of the oasis itself. "This is quite a talent you have, princess. Are they all your work?"

"Give it back to me! Now!"

Still very much ignoring her demands, he flipped to the last few pages and saw an incomplete sketch of the foxes from earlier as well as an incomplete portrait of some man. The only visible definition was of his jawline and start of his nose, long and slender. He chuckled and lowered it for her to see. "And who is this young man, dear princess? Perhaps a secret lover?"

She gave a cry, tears in her eyes, and kicked him as hard as she could on his shin. He gave a loud yelp that sent the birds out of the trees and dropped the book. As she recovered the book, he held onto his injury with his own tears in his eyes. "Gods girl, you didn't have to do that!"

She hurriedly stuffed all of her belongings into her leather bag, breath shallow with anger. "You should have listened to me, you pompous jerk!"

He gaped at her. "I am pompous?" he stood, limping just a bit. "Well, I did not expect humor, of all things."

"I am serious!" she snapped as she buckled the leather bag closed and slung it over her shoulder. "You are an idiot, too! I bet your parents never even taught you any manners!"

"They taught me a great deal of things, most of which I choose to ignore," he said. "I spent my time learning how to woo a lady. It seemed far more important than 'respect your superiors', to me at least." he reached for her hand, but she pulled it away from his reach. That made him laugh. "Who else is to blame for my behavior but the gods? I would say they created me exactly as they wanted me to be. How can you fault me for that, hmm?"

Her whole face turned red. "The gods would never condone behavior like this! They created us for...for..." she struggled to find the right way to say it. "...for far more! You dishonor them by acting like you do!"

"No, they made men and women to propagate until they ruled the planet. I am only doing what they made us for. Perhaps there is a reason we met here," he said quietly, stepping closer to her with a coaxing smile. "Perhaps they wanted us to share the passion of love." he knelt to kiss her but she slapped him across the face. He backed away, holding onto the hotspot on his cheek with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"How dare you!"

"How dare me?" he repeated.

"Yes! You! Leave this place or...or...or..."

"Would not you like a little passion, princess?" he asked, once again approaching her. "What greater pleasure is there than the passions of love?" she slapped at him again, though this time he was ready for it and caught her by the wrist. A smile cracked across his face, replacing the seductive expression he had on. "My, my...you are quite a girl. Overreacting to every little thing will only torment you. It wasn't like I would have taken you against your will. A girl's first kiss is a special thing in my heart; I take it very seriously."

"Overreacted?!" she gasped. "I did not give you permission to...to..." the words left her in a cute stammer.

"Kiss you?" he pressed. "I didn't hear a no, either. You seemed willing enough, until it almost came to be."

"I did not!" she snapped, tearing her hand away. "Get out of here! Now! Or else I will report this to the guards!

His expression shifted into a neutral one. He probed her eyes for the tease girls normally gave him but found only honest confusion and anger. He frowned. "I see...my apologies, princess. I did not think you were truly offended by my advances. I expected an entirely different response, as I was led to believe you were a willing participate by your brothers. They do not believe, I suspect, you are capable of more than what you are." he bowed deeply, apologetically. Emma blanched at his words. "I shall see you again, if it would be suitable, and hopefully then I shan't be punished." he gave her another handsome smile and turned to leave. "Though I suppose even the slaps were well worth it."

Her eyes misted in tears. More than what I am...? She knew her brothers had done this one purpose, to show her she was nothing more than a child. She watched Alexander disappear into the shrubbery before letting her tears fall. Her brothers always seemed willing to tarnish her image wherever they could and to whoever they could.

They are wrong, she thought. I am not a child! She has had enough!

That is it for the first chapter's remake. I have adjusted it so much that it is entirely new, from the writing up to the characters and tone. Far more fitting, I would say. If you enjoyed it, and I hope that you did, please consider leaving a review. Even if you didn't, actually, a review would still be amazing! If you felt something was off or had suggestions or complaints, please leave them...though I would kindly request you do so in a constructive manner and not to be mean. (forsake me for my tender heart!)

Thank you all for reading! You inspire me to keep going!

Notes on names;
* for anyone wondering why Camb has such a different name; in this story, Terra named him using a dead language (faked to not be Greek obviously) so that he was purposely different from the others.

** Female Royals have a tradition about their name, where they are given two middle names. One is usually picked by the father, the other by the mother. Sometimes they can agree on either, or sometimes one will pick both, but the later is very rare.