Disclaimer: I do not own Square Enix’s Final Fantasy XII, nor am I making any money off this fanfiction. Arisa and Rian are © J.E. Jones, and to use these characters without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law.

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Author’s Notes…

Sorry for the delay! I actually still have a lot of inspiration for this story, but then I got started working on my originals and some other things for a bit, and before I knew it, seven months or so had passed. I’m so sorry, guys! That won’t be happening again. I love this story so much; whenever I work on it, it just flows from my fingertips, there’s no forcing myself involved at all.

If you guys could leave a kind word or two (or three, heh heh), I would really appreciate it, as always!

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Trust and Temptation

Chapter Nine

The New Arrangement

-o-o-

Penelo eased out the breath she was holding and slowly made her way into the fencing chamber. It had been two days since Larsa had told her of his plans to make her an assassin of the empire. He hadn’t elaborated—just patted her knee and gotten to his feet, making a soft sound as the circulation returned to his knees. And then—nothing. Left her to be picked up by Arisa and saw that she retired to bed.

No crazy dreams since then. No court breakfast, contrary to what His Imperial Majesty had promised. She hadn’t even been summoned for an afternoon tea. She’d been told she could take all her meals in her rooms.

Arisa had kept her company, and the books in the library. Fortunately she’d learned to read from her father before he’d passed. She would help him keep his stock and sales books in check, while he worked the front of his store, and this very task had helped her keep her place at Migelo’s Sundries. In Archades, though, when she was confined to the perimeters of the palace, there wasn’t much to do. She felt pretty useless.

But now she’d been struck with inspiration—a way to make her stay here on more even ground. She’d be a fool to stay in the Solidor’s web for too long without some sort of negotiated reprieve. There was no telling if it would work or not, but before now, she had always thought of Larsa as charitable, so hopefully that hadn’t changed too much. Hopefully.

The clang of swords was more audible the closer she drew to Larsa and his sparring partner, a man who was shorter than him by at least a foot. Several noblemen were gathered nearby, although none of them were dressed in the fencing regalia as the emperor and his chosen opponent were. There to observe, then. Maybe if Penelo prayed hard enough, Larsa would make them leave once she proposed her bargain. It was hard to beat… if he didn’t want to pull the emperor card again.

Even as her eye twitched in remembered irritation (it had dwindled down from the sheer fury), she reminded herself that if she played her own cards right, carrying a nice demeanor could have its advantages. Suppressing the urge to rip his throat out and the stuffy-looking collar that usually decorated it with its little Solidor emblems was as good a place to start as any. She could be pleasant, even, a first since her confinement orders here. It might even have the benefit of catching him off guard, further increasing her chances of success.

Though how he intends on keeping me here when he supposedly wants me to work as an assassin is beyond me.

As ever, Larsa’s mind was blocked away from her, in the territory of the dangerously unknown. What she’d give for telepathy. But no one could do that. Perhaps hume minds and magick just weren’t meant for all things that mystical. A real shame.

Larsa’s opponent’s rapier went flying out of his hand as Larsa gave a sharp twist of his wrist. Another maneuver later that involved a complicated placement of his feet, and he had the man up against the wall with the tip of his sword a centimeter from the man’s throat. Overkill for a simple practice match? Maybe. But gods above, he moved much more quickly now than he did years ago even without the long legs to aid him.

Was this really such a good idea? She didn’t have a chance…

Penelo shook her head firmly. She couldn’t be a coward now. Besides, she had no other excuse to be here, and she was not going to tell Larsa it was because she wanted to see him. No, definitely not. He’d fluff up like a proud bird and poke out his chest and all Penelo’s hard work of not encouraging him in the least would spiral down the drain. She had to do this, for her tattered pride if nothing else, and that was all there was to it.

Larsa removed his head guard. He shook sweat-soaked strands of hair away from his reddened face, and his opponent, when he followed suit, looked much the same. If Penelo were more honest with herself, she could admit that Larsa was kind of appealing this way. The light of battle lingered in his eyes, and the satisfaction of having won mingled there with it. It was more lively than Penelo had seen him since her fateful arrival at the palace days ago, when he’d greeted her for breakfast.

So was it her fault? One could look at it that way… But he deserved every bit of her hostile demeanor when it came his way. The least he could do was answer more of her questions, darn it! The shroud of mystery cloaking his every move had her at her wit’s end!

A murmur rippled through the gentlemen. Larsa turned toward her, slipping his head guard under his arm and lifting his eyebrows. He didn’t have to look so surprised, Penelo thought with a grumpy frown already taking form on her mouth. He was the one who hadn’t sent for her. He was the one who wanted her close but always somehow seemed to keep her at arm’s length. Secrets, and what was more, Penelo suspected lies lurking behind that calm façade, as well.

She reminded herself that she was supposed to be acting more friendly than past encounters between them and turned the frown upside down. It worked like one of her more tangible magick spells—tension eased out of the gentlemen, and a few flashed return smiles at her and gave a courteous incline of their heads. It didn’t hurt that she looked like the noble lady she was supposed to be portraying, not that she really even knew how to behave like one.

“Lady” Penelo. Yeah. Right. Who had dreamed that one up? Oh, right, the tallest man in the room.

“Penelo…” Larsa, too, inclined his head. He stepped away from his company and closed the last of the distance that separated himself from her. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could speak to you in private.” She curved her smile into something softer and less cordial, but not quite in the seductive realm. She wanted to lower Larsa’s defenses, not give the wrong impression to all those within viewing and earshot.

“In private, mmm?” Suspicion narrowed Larsa’s eyes. Drat. Well, he was trained to be wary of anything and everything, and this did seem unlikely for Penelo. A good mood? Around Larsa? When chocobos actually managed to fly, what with the way things had been going lately.

“Yup! You can do this one thing for me, Larsa, can’t you?” Daring herself every step of the way, she rose on her tiptoes, putting her hands against his chest and depositing the barest of kisses to his cheek—just a ghost of one, really. The gesture was easier than she had anticipated. Though she was hardly touching him, he felt good beneath her palms, lean and hard through the fabric of his fencing gear.

“…Very well.” Larsa turned back to the surveyors of the scene and jerked his head in the direction of the door. He seemed calm on the surface. She’d heard his breathing shudder. “Well, gentlemen, it has been a pleasure keeping company with you, but I am afraid we must part for now. The lady would like our conversation to be that of secrecy, and I am afraid I must abide by her wishes.”

Penelo gave an inward snort. Abide by her wishes? If only. She would have high-tailed it out of there on day one.

The nobles bought into his charm. One by one, they filed out, each muttering their farewells. One even told Larsa that he should allow the rest of them to see the Lady Penelo more often, and with a wide smile, Larsa returned that he would consider it. The man with the curly brown hair and equally brown eyes winked at her as he departed, the last of them.

She was quiet for several moments once they were alone, as was her companion. Funny—she had had so much planned to say until now. It wasn’t like this hadn’t ever happened before. Still… Maybe now was different. She had come to him. She was the one with important things to say. Before, it had always been the other way around.

“Well, Penelo, what do you wish to speak of?” Tranquil as always, he walked the span of the room to put his sword down among its brethren. He ran gloved fingers through his hair, obviously not caring if he soiled what looked to be priceless fabric as he heaved a sigh that was more weary than frustrated. Had he been working hard the last few days? She wouldn’t know—she’d not seen hide nor hide of him lately.

“I have a proposal.” It was so quiet now that the words echoed through the room. She hadn’t meant to speak that loud; her nervousness had gotten a hold of her. The words whispered back to her from behind grand, marble pillars.

He tensed. Of course he would. But what did he honestly expect from her, for her to lie down like a compliant dog? Never.

Despite this, she kept on. No need to falter now. “I think…” A step toward him, slow as though she were walking through molasses, and then another. “…I think it would put things on even ground. What—what I want to propose, I mean.”

His fingers hovered over the rapiers, not quite touching any of them. Mentally preparing himself for what was ahead?

“I’m not saying I’m going to up and leave you, Larsa—”

“You couldn’t.” Smooth like velvet.

And effective. She had to suppress a growl, and her teeth clenched with the force of it. Gods, did he specialize in being a royally-elected pain?

“…Right. Well—” Take a deep breath. Be the notably better person… Except Larsa would likely never see the error of his ways. It made him infinitely annoying to handle at times like this. Funny. He hadn’t been like this at all in his letters, nothing but sweet and understanding.

“So that boy in the letters… Everything he told me… Was that a lie?”

“…This is how I figure it. I’ll agree to your conditions about staying here and your plan for me willingly…” She paused to let this soak in. Yes, he could keep her here, but wouldn’t it be much less of a hassle if they weren’t fighting about it all the time? “…If you agree to allow me to challenge you to a sword fight whenever I want, as often as I want. If I win at any time, then I can leave.”

Larsa was quiet for so long she feared he was rejecting the idea. Did he think it so horrible that it didn’t even deserve a response?

After her heart nearly squeezed itself into two from worry, a chuckle breathed from him. She almost hadn’t heard it. Only straining her ears and reassuring herself that that wasn’t her pounding heart had allowed it. Which was worse, disgusted quiet or laughter?

“You are terrible with a sword, Penelo, you have said so yourself many… many a time.”

Laughter, then.

She straightened her shoulders. “Then… you know you don’t have anything to worry about.” He did, of course. She wouldn’t be terrible forever, especially not with her second plan coming to fruition in her mind.

“I suppose that is true… but if you presented this challenge to me, then you must expect to win at some point. I would be a fool to not take that into consideration.” Folding his arms, he faced away from the table and leaned a hip against it. “…Or am I wrong?”

The temptation to tell him he was just because it would make her feel better was strong. He was wrong all the time, though she wondered how often that applied to areas outside of dealing with her. Not often, likely. That confidence had to come from somewhere, and Larsa was a well respected man. From what she had seen, he could turn ruthless in a second, however kind his hands were when dealing with his empire. She found it hard to imagine people placating him just for the sake of it. Larsa would find that so offensive.

…Or so he had written, once upon a time.

“No, you’re not.” She shook her head. “But aren’t you thinking the rest of this through? Don’t you realize how long it would take me to ever successfully beat you at this?”

“Then why?”

“Because—I could try and run away, if I wanted. Instead, I’m striking a bargain with you—I’m showing you that this is how you handle things when dealing with a friend…”

She shouldn’t have said it. She hadn’t even meant it in an insulting way. Did that matter? No. Larsa’s eyes narrowed again, and he pushed away from the table to stalk toward her. He was so tall like this that she had to crane her neck back in order to see his eyes.

“You’re more to me than a friend, Penelo. You are valuable to me—priceless. I will do whatever I can to protect you.”

Anger flickered, roiling just beneath the surface and ready to spring free if called for. She kept it in check as best she could, refusing to fight with him here and now. Not about something so ridiculous. Why couldn’t he just give in and do this one thing for her? Why did everything have to be a constant struggle?

“You want me to be an assassin, Larsa. I don’t really see how that’s going to keep me out of trouble.” There, nice and even. This being cordial thing was tough at first, but it got easier with practice.

“That… is different.”

He was being elusive again!

“How?” she fired back, all pleasantries sliding away from her so quickly it was as if they were never there at all. “Tell me how it’s different, Larsa! Stop being all shady and secretive and just spit out the truth instead of being contradictive all the time!”

“Do not raise your voice to me again, Penelo!”

Her mouth snapped shut only because she was so surprised. His yell resounded through the room, bouncing off the pillars and the windows framed high above them that bordered the walls. Despite how heated that had been, his eyes glittered with ice. Cold one minute, hot the next, and then both! Arrrgh! How was she supposed to be able to keep up with him?!

After a moment, he glanced away, easing out a tiny breath. “…You are the one seeking a bargain. I do not see how it would be feasible to offend me by raising your voice at me.”

Okay… True…

But…

They were walking on shaky ground, the two of them. Penelo refused to meet his eyes, and she sensed that he was doing the same. They both found pieces of wall and floor to stare at. Why was it that he never said he was sorry… outright? …Still, an apology was an apology.

Penelo sighed. “…You’re right. I shouldn’t have gotten frustrated so fast.” You’re forgiven.

“Let us say that I do… consent to this proposal of yours.” Each word was said as carefully as though he feared they would cut him should he speak them wrong. “…I would request one thing in return.”

Instinctively, Penelo stiffened. What could he want? The possibilities were endless, and she didn’t even know where to start. It didn’t help that his mind was quicker than hers, sharper. He was always one step ahead of her. It sapped all of her mental energy just to keep up.

“…Yes?” She had to force it out through clenched teeth. Dare she admit she was afraid? Yes, Larsa frightened her on levels she had never associated him with before. The thought of running into him had kept her stomach in knots for days. And for what? She knew he wasn’t going to harm her. But… something about him… the way he made her thoughts spiral out of control, be it good or bad…

“Tea—with… me. Every day that you are here.”

That was it?

“And without… you glaring at me. Just—the two of us, with no qualms between us. As though we are the old friends we pretend to be.”

Her heart gave a startled thump at that, and she jerked her gaze back down to the floor. Pretend? She didn’t… she wasn’t…

Larsa shifted, growing increasingly more uncomfortable as the moments passed. Why? Before she could ask, he abruptly straightened, pushing his fingers anew through his hair and brushing past her. She whirled, staring at the spread of his shoulders. Where was he going so fast? Was that it? Had they come to an agreement? They hadn’t officially said anything, but…

And he walked right out the door.

Numb, she curled her arms around herself and bowed her head. Should she follow him? She wasn’t pretending to be old friends, not at all. He was her best friend, he… he had been, for years. That hadn’t changed. It would never change. She had moments where she hated him since she had come here, that was true, but… but…

Her heart hurt.

-o-o-

In her mind’s eye, she did run after him. She grabbed his arm, she told him that of course they were still friends. She hugged him. He hugged her. Apologies streamed from her lips, endless in their supply and sincerity. He apologized, too, for all the horrible things he had said to her, for keeping her locked up in the palace. She could go, if she wanted to. He wouldn’t keep her prisoner. He cared about their friendship too much for that.

Instead, she ventured down the corridors in the opposite direction that Larsa had taken, her eyes on her feet and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She didn’t know what to think about anything anymore. He said he had to trust her first before he could tell her anything. Was that because he thought that she thought that they weren’t friends anymore? Had he honestly not expected this reaction from her?

She didn’t understand him in the least.

-o-o-

Why had she been anointed as a lady? To make things easier for her to stay here?

What plans did he have with her along the lines of being an assassin for him?

Was the empire in trouble? What did all that talisman talk mean? What about her dream? The fire? The stone…

-o-o-

Was Vaan okay? Was he managing just fine on his own without her? Had he gotten into trouble yet?

Was their airship okay? What did he plan to do if it needed repairs? He was always the first to panic about that sort of thing…

-o-o-

Why had Vaan lied to her? For what purpose had he gone behind her back? Had he ever planned on telling her about all those warrants for his head?

For that matter, had he planned on telling her about the deal with Larsa? Ever? Had he just been confident enough that he wouldn’t get her hurt?

-o-o-

Why was Larsa so different?

Had he kept his real self hidden from her in the letters? Why lie? Why pretend to be someone he wasn’t? Had anything he’d written at all been the truth?

Why did he love her?

-o-o-

Why…

What…

How…

-o-o-

Penelo threw herself down onto her bed. She lay there for a moment, breathing heavily through her nose, before she snatched up one of her embroidered pillows and screamed as loud as she could into it. Too many questions! Too many unanswered ones!

Wasn’t she deserving of knowing something?! Even Vaan had kept her in the dark!

Why?!

Why?!

Why…

-o-o-

You could have left by now…

You could have at least attempted to run away…

So why haven’t you?

-o-o-

“Lady Penelo? Lady Penelo, it’s time to wake up… It’s breakfast…”

Penelo peeled her eyes open despite the effort it took. She blinked once—everything was a blur—blinked twice—still hazy around the edges, and there was the outline of a face—blinked again—there stood Arisa. Her hand maiden was leaning over her, her hands placed on her knees as she bent at the waist. Concern was writ across her face. Why? Gods, it was bright… too bright…

Squeezing her eyes shut, Penelo rolled over onto her other side to try and win herself a few more minutes of sleep. She couldn’t have been out for too long. Why this mention of breakfast?

“Lady Penelo!” Arisa, as usual, was exasperated. Getting Penelo to rise could be quite the feat on some days. “Wake up! If you miss breakfast, Lord Larsa will murder me!”

Penelo groaned into her pillow. Why? Why her? Why now? “How is it breakfast? I haven’t even had dinner yet…”

The other girl was quiet for several moments. Deciphering the mutters Penelo had spewed out, muffled as they were by her pillow? In any case, she answered at last, and in her mind’s eye, Penelo could imagine dainty hands on equally dainty hips.

“That would be because you missed it, milady! ‘Twas a good one, at that, but nothing anyone could do could get you to rise. But now it’s the morning, and it’s time to get up! Get on with it already. I don’t fancy losing my job over this. I’ve had it for so long, you see. Would be a shame to go without it now, and all because the lady couldn’t wake up for her breakfast. Goodness knows you must be hungry!”

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Did she ever shut up?!

Penelo stuffed a pillow over her head.

“Milady!”

“Go away!” It was funny. She’d been such a morning person before she had set foot in Archades. Must have been the atmosphere. It was so different here than in Rabanastre and the various other places she had traveled. “I could care less about Larsa.”

This last was a mumble even harder to pick out than before, but pick it out Arisa did. No sooner had she uttered the words than the pillow was ripped from her head.

“Wha—hey!” Penelo sat upright in bed, glowering at her hand maiden. Wasn’t this out of line for servants or something? Not that she would ever say such a thing—in fact, were it up to her, she wouldn’t even have Arisa or anyone else for help. But still!

“Now see here, milady, you may not care very much for His Imperial Majesty, but the rest of us don’t feel the same. He’s been nothing but generous to you! Kind, I’d even dare say!” Arisa looked as though she could strangle Penelo. There were red spots high on her cheeks, and her lips had gone all thin. Penelo was certain that in that moment, if Arisa had had the permission to do her bodily harm, she might have.

“Kind?” Penelo choked out once she had collected her bearings. Had she ever seen Arisa so angry before? She didn’t think so. “Are you blind?”

“No!” her hand maiden huffed. “But I have been here a trifle longer than you, milady, and were you not who you are, Lord Larsa would have hardly stood for this temperament from you! He’s questioned even now by his followers! It makes him look bad, see, to have you go off at the mouth at him, yet he tolerates it!”

Like that was her problem! Penelo had never asked to be shut up inside the palace, and in her opinion, Larsa hadn’t been tolerating her in the least! When was the last time they had gotten through a conversation without him raising his voice at her? This was ridiculous! Honestly!

“I think we’re just going to have to agree to disagree, Arisa.” You’re kind of biased in this, or have you not noticed? Penelo wasn’t unkind enough to voice her thoughts aloud. She could, however, lean forward across the bed and grab her pillow from Arisa’s white-knuckled grasp. If the woman wasn’t careful, she’d rip it to shreds. “Now let me go back to sleep, okay? I don’t think I could stomach breakfast right now.”

Penelo thought this was perfectly reasonable. Arisa, judging by the way the red on her cheeks spread to her hairline, did not.

One moment, Penelo was holding onto her pillow and settling back down with it; the next, Arisa, trembling with rage, had it out of Penelo’s hands again and was holding it above her head. Penelo gaped at her. Why was this such a big deal? It was breakfast. Who cared if she slept? The only time she had to meet with Larsa was at tea, and that was by their agreement. That was still hours away.

“Milady, I must apologize profusely for this—” Arisa didn’t look very sorry. “—but seeing as how Lord Larsa has requested that you eat breakfast with him before all of the Imperial Court… I cannot allow you to go back to sleep. I cannot allow you to disgrace His Grace before his people.”

Frowning heavily at her, Penelo considered her chances of being able to successfully kick Arisa out of her rooms so she could go back to sleep. She would have simply ordered her to, but obviously Larsa’s command was higher than Penelo’s own. This made things tricky.

To be honest, Penelo wasn’t ready to even see Larsa yet, not after their meeting the afternoon before. It had put her nerves on the absolute edge, and thinking about her failures and unending questions hadn’t exactly put her in the best of moods toward him, or even Vaan. She felt betrayed by both. Would this eventually clear up? Would she forgive them? Yes. Penelo had never been one to hold grudges, and she prided herself on that fact. But… they were still fresh, the wounds Larsa and she gave one another.

“Can’t you just tell him I can’t today? It’s not like I’m purposefully avoiding him. I just need to sleep.”

Arisa set her jaw, trembling as it was. “I’m afraid I cannot comply. He nearly had a fit last night when I told him you were sleeping through dinner. To miss another meal? I’d rather not be the one to inform him.”

“So don’t. Get someone else to tell him?” Dread had knotted through Penelo’s stomach. Breakfast, she might have been able to handle, but this meal before the court that Larsa had hinted at before? She wasn’t ready… other issues aside.

“Milady!”

“Gods! What?!” Penelo was tired of hearing Arisa so appalled with her.

“You will go to breakfast!”

With a growl that was hardly suppressed at all, Penelo lunged for her pillow and then settled back on her haunches with it. “No!”

“You wonder why he is so unreasonable…!” Arisa clenched her hands into fists at her sides, gazing in a wondrous horror at Penelo. “He asks you to do one simple thing for him, yet you deny him it! You would shame him!”

Penelo wanted to scream at her. Larsa was the one who had made her so reluctant to be near him in the first place! Larsa was the one who had been unfair and all mysterious and sulky since she had first set foot in the palace! Larsa was the one who—

“Stop trying to make me feel guilty, it’s not working.” It was, and she hated it.

“Milady, you will get out of that bed, and you will bathe and dress for breakfast now!” Arisa thundered as she pointed her finger at the floor. Penelo jumped in spite of herself. Anyone lurking outside had probably heard that yell.

Sounding much braver than she felt, Penelo forced her shoulders back and lifted an eyebrow. “Or what?”

-o-o-

Life was getting so unfair.

Arisa scrubbed at Penelo’s back dutifully with a sponge as Penelo herself glared into the steamy room, curled up on the steps in the bath for easy reach. Had she thought Arisa capable of bodily removing her from the room? No. A vast oversight on her part, and one she wouldn’t allow to happen again.

“We’ll have to wash your hair later, we haven’t the time to let it dry,” Arisa muttered mostly to herself. Penelo had begun to tune her out a quarter of an hour ago.

A breakfast before an entire court… Nothing but nobles there attending. Where would Penelo sit? How would she mingle? What should she say? The moment she opened her mouth, it would become clear that she was a commoner and not from Archadia, if her wild blonde hair didn’t give her away as Dalmascan immediately. What good could come from this? Arisa had talked about shaming Larsa by not showing up. Wouldn’t it be better if Penelo wasn’t there to show her face at all?

She wished she knew a bit more about everything, including how she had been titled a noble in the first place. It would make it easier to know the part she was to play.

Penelo let her chin rest on her knees and closed her eyes. Though it would rankle, she was sure if she managed to hold her temper enough to ask Larsa nicely about a few of the things plaguing her, he’d answer. Maybe. It wasn’t so long ago that he had answered every question she had ever had for him, and the proof of that was in her letters—her letters another dilemma in itself.

As Arisa toweled her off moments later, Penelo stared uncomfortably over her shoulder at the dress that had been laid out for her. The last few days, Arisa had helped her into her dress (though it hadn’t really been necessary) in her rooms. It seemed they didn’t have time for that today, and Penelo was reminded of her very first breakfast at this palace. It hadn’t even been that long ago, and it already felt like ages.

“All right… Today, milady, we must dress a bit accordingly.”

Penelo frowned at her. “What do you mean? I’ve been dressing like a noble since I got here…”

“Yes, but comfortably. As you will be dining with the ladies of the Archadian Court, Lord Larsa and I both agree that it would be best if you mirrored them at least somewhat.” Arisa shook the damp towel out and set it aside before she reached for one of the garments hidden beneath the dress. “Here we are.” She held it up for Penelo’s examination.

Laces. Boning. Fabric enough to cover her breasts down to her waist.

“No,” Penelo whispered, horrified. “No! I am not wearing that!” She raised her eyes from the terror to Arisa’s, and part of her wasn’t surprised to find her hand maiden unsympathetic. “Arisa, please! I’m going to breakfast, why torture me more?”

“I apologize, milady.” Again, Arisa didn’t sound very sorry at all.

Penelo scrambled away from her, flailing her hands up to at least get her chest covered. Arisa had seen all there was to see of her body, but Penelo couldn’t help her modesty. She might have clambered around half the time in revealing clothes, yes—that didn’t change the fact that she had never once shown her bits to anyone, and were someone to walk into the bathing room now… well, there was a first time for everything. Penelo preferred that time to not be now.

“I won’t be able to breathe!”

“And nor will the rest of the ladies, so you won’t be alone.” Arisa advanced toward her. “Come now, Lady Penelo, into the corset.”

-o-o-

The rumors Penelo had heard about corsets were true. Penelo couldn’t breathe. This was the most uncomfortable thing she had ever been in, and she resented Larsa and Arisa both for forcing her into one. She asked herself again—Larsa? Kind? Pah!

Arisa left her outside the doors of Larsa’s bedchambers (presumably; Penelo had no idea where they were at), patted her shoulder and winked at her, and then vanished down the corridor. Penelo watched her go, feeling as though she’d been left to hang. She had come to consider Arisa a friend in the last few days… Now it was apparent whose side Arisa was clearly on, and it wasn’t Penelo’s.

An imperial guard raised his fist and knocked once on the broad oak door behind him. “Your Grace, Lady Penelo has arrived!”

Penelo wished she could see past his visor. It would have been handy to know the face of the man who had sent her toward her imminent demise.

The door opened mere moments later, and Larsa appeared, flushed and smelling of soaps himself. Had he, too, been to the bath? As Penelo watched, he tightened cufflinks at his wrists, his fingers bare. It was unusual to see him without gloves.

Noticing her gaze, Larsa gave her a slight smile and ushered her into the room with him. “Wait here, I’ll be just a moment.”

Penelo looked around. Five years ago, she had been in these very chambers. The first was a sitting room, and it led into a much bigger chamber that was used for Larsa’s bed, and just off that room was another, a study. At least, that had been the layout of it before, and Penelo doubted it had changed. Larsa was obviously into interior decorating, judging by the replacement of the automatic doors with wooden ones, but…

She hummed beneath her breath, starting toward the windowsill. It was just a ways from the sofa and looked out over the entire city. She’d found the view beautiful when she’d been younger. Would she still find it the same now, when this palace was her cage?

Her feet sunk into the plush carpet as she walked. A flicker of something caught her eye, and she turned in her path, finding herself looking at her reflection in a mirror across from her. It was tall and gilded and seemed very ancient. A family heirloom? Had it been here before? Her memory was so foggy from back then, and she hadn’t visited often enough for anything to stay permanently in her mind. It was why the palace was still an unfamiliar maze to her.

She touched her hair. The young woman behind the mirror glass mimicked her. Blonde hair set up from her face and tumbled in curls atop her head. A dress the color of periwinkle, down to her feet today, with skirts beneath it that rustled every time she moved. It was Penelo’s face in the mirror… but she felt like it wasn’t herself looking back at her at all. She was too far removed from a sky pirating life. She looked as though she’d been born in the courts, raised there, except for her posture, it was an obvious giveaway…

Penelo straightened her shoulders.

Larsa, a stiff jacket on his shoulders, came out of his bed chamber still pulling gloves onto his fingers. Penelo turned hurriedly away from the mirror, lest he see that she had been half-admiring herself. She despised what had happened to her, it was true, but that didn’t take away all the years she had pined to be of higher status. Penelo was practical even back then, and she had known her place. It hadn’t stopped the fantasizing.

“You do look lovely, Penelo.” Larsa’s eyes roved over her in a very polite way, never lingering in any one place. He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Penelo didn’t yet take it. “…If you answer one question first.”

Impatience flickered behind his eyes. Larsa quickly smoothed it away and cleared his throat, his eyebrows raising. “Well, I suppose we have time enough for one.”

“How did you make me a noble? Where did my titles come from?” Penelo would have folded her arms had it been comfortable—the corset restricted a lot of movement where it concerned her upper body. “You told Rian I’m from Ashe’s court, but I haven’t seen or even talked to her in five years, either, so… Did you two come to some conclusion without me? Or are you lying to everyone?” That didn’t seem likely. “Not to be—insulting… That’s not what I intended…”

“That was four questions.” Larsa lowered his eyes to his wrists, where he pulled his gloves more snugly onto them, tugging at their edges.

Penelo waited. Four questions, yes, but they all related to the same topic.

“Ashelia was very… accommodating when I asked her if we could create some titles for you that proclaimed you were from her court.”

By that, did he mean he’d threatened her? Penelo didn’t want to assume the worst, yet it did sound very suspicious, the way he’d said “accommodating.” Even that little pause had been there.

Larsa shook his head. “I imagine she has her own motives for agreeing with me. There was not even an argument to be had on the subject. It went quite smoothly. As it is, though, through much string-pulling, you are accredited with full titles as to your noblehood.”

“But why did you make me a noble?”

His lips tugged into another small smile. “…That is now five questions, Penelo.”

Penelo swallowed. She sucked in her pride as best she could. It was instinct now to lash out at him and demand answers, since he’d made her wait so long, and before her arrival here, she hadn’t ever been so short-tempered. Larsa brought out the worst in her. But if it meant even one moment where they didn’t fight…

“…as though we are the old friends we pretend to be…”

“Please,” she whispered.

Larsa’s eyes lifted to hers. It hadn’t occurred to her before that he probably didn’t look ever lower his eyes for anyone else, and instead looked down his nose at them. He’d been hesitant with her since he was a child—that hadn’t changed in so long?

“…It’s easier, to have you here as a noble. Less questions, less resistance met, not to mention that it has its usefulness in other ways, as well. For instance, as far as anyone is concerned, you are visiting from Queen Ashelia’s court, and are staying here within mine as a symbol of peace between our nations. You are to report back to Ashelia regularly, of course.”

Being nice! It had actually worked!

Wait.

Larsa’s words had caught up with her through the swell of accomplishment, and she stared at him, trying to comprehend that last sentence. “So—… I’m going to be visiting Ashe soon, is that what you’re saying?”

Larsa cleared his throat and offered his arm a second time, his face once more going into an emotionless mask. Did he think she was going to get angry with him? “Yes, that is what I am saying. While you are there, you will become learned in the ways of the court. Since you were not raised as a noble, you will always be a bit apart from everyone, but I am certain you can see why any bit in backing our claims of your titling would help.”

Penelo wasn’t angry at all. No, excitement was beginning to rise inside of her, and she took his arm, unable to keep a grin from her face. She was going to Rabanastre soon? She was going to be able to see her home city? She was going to see Ashe?

“…I see you are smiling. You’re… pleased?” Surprise. It was the first time she had heard it color Larsa’s voice.

“Well… a little.” A lot. Penelo tried to tamper it down, lest Larsa get the wrong idea, like she was more excited to see Ashe than she had him. She had been excited to see Larsa, it was just that it had been mired with confusion, and then everything had gone downhill after that. “How long will I be away?”

“Ashelia and I have agreed to a week. You leave in a few days’ time.”

Penelo couldn’t quell a hum.

Larsa steered them toward the door, and it wasn’t until they’d reached it that he lowered his mouth to her ear, halting their progress. “…When you return to me, you will find that Lamont, an old friend of yours, has many things to tell you concerning your stay here.” He pulled away from her, studying her behind calm eyes.

Penelo blinked slowly.

Lamont? He’d mentioned that before, the first and only time they had had tea together.

Really? Larsa was finally going to tell her a few things, she only had to go to Rabanastre first before she could hear them? Or maybe he was just feeling more comfortable since she had struck her bargain with him the day before? Penelo liked to think it was both.

“To breakfast?” Larsa asked.

She nodded, her mind still awhirl with what he had told her. “To breakfast.”