19Colette's Covenant
"Hey!"
"Woh!"
"Colette! Stop running!"
"Sorry!" She yelled out over her shoulder, her steps never faltering. She was used to people telling her she shouldn't run like a madman at all times. She didn't even listen anymore. She simply apologized for nearly running them over as she sprinted down her path.
Reaching the staircase, Colette didn't hesitate to jump up onto the thin metal rail and slide down on her bottom with a cry of delight. She followed the curve of the staircase down and around through the many levels of the training center.
It had been her first day back on full duty. Master Hue had finally cleared her completely, no more light work for her. She had spent nearly the entire morning on the training field. Not on the third, higher plate where the paladins trained. She rarely went up there because there was rarely a paladin there to spar with her.
She had been on the second level, the level for knights. She enjoyed spending her time with them. They were her battle buddies, her war brothers and sisters. She wanted to be as close to these people as possible, so that she could appreciate them all the more.
Colette rode the rails all the way to the bottom floor. She then hopped off and began running across the guard training yard. More people began yelling at her to stop acting so crazy. She did believe that they had become accustomed to Nicolas doing it and had taken up the mantle to assist him. She wanted to laugh and yell out that her feet were healed, she didn't need to stop anymore!
Instead, she just ran. Right out of the door and into the Royal Complex. The bright sunlight was warm and welcoming on her skin. After so long of being confined indoors, it was a blessing to be able to run outside again. No matter how close her bed could be put to the windows, nor that those windows could be opened to coax a breeze inside, it simply wasn't a substitute for being able to actually run under the bright blue sky just as fast as she wanted.
"Yo! Colette!"
The cry wasn't one of those telling her to stop, it sounded more like someone trying to get her attention. She came to a skidding halt, turning quickly on the path to beam as Lord Yvain and Gael came walking towards her.
"You're as busy as ever," the young lord grinned, stopping in front of her. "I'm glad to see you up and about again."
"Not so glad as I, I assure you. Good afternoon, Gael."
"Colette," the acolyte nodded to her, his platinum blond hair moving gently in the breeze. "I thought Master Hue told you to take it easy."
"I have been," she beamed. "I was released for full duty just this morning."
"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Odilon asked, smiling brightly at her.
Colette shrugged. "Nowhere in particular."
"Then why are you in a rush?"
"I like running. It's far more fun than walking. Faster, too."
Gael laughed as Lord Yvain rolled his eyes. The lord spoke, "Well, you ought to be careful. You've only just fully recovered. You don't want to push it so hard so soon."
Gael nodded in agreement. "Though, it's wonderful to see you so happy again."
Colette giggled. "Thanks. So, what are you two doing here?"
"Oh, I provide the church with the goods they use in their holy rituals," Odilon told her. "Gael is training to be Master Eneas' replacement one day, and he's recently started working with me in his stead."
"We were discussing trade schedules and items that we need," Gael added. "We were on our way to speak to her majesty about how the war front is affecting church business."
Colette frowned. "The war is affecting the church?"
"I'm afraid so. Blessed items from the Sacellum are meant to be delivered to the various churches and temples across the country rather frequently, but since the war has become so volatile recently, we haven't been able to deliver as required. The Lord will understand our plight, I'm sure, but that doesn't give us pardon not to try regardless."
Colette nodded. "I understand. I'll let you get back to it then."
"Oh, Lady Toinette," Odilon stopped her from running off again. "I wanted to tell you that I'm going to be present tomorrow for the ceremony. I'm looking forward to it."
"Really?"
"Yes, indeed. I've been present at every paladin's honor ceremony since Lady Benoite's. She has been working a bit too hard recently. I don't think she's sleeping as she should."
Colette flinched in guilt. "Yes, well, I hope that now that I'm back in top form, I can help relieve her of some of her burden."
"You're planning on returning to the front lines?" Gael frowned, concerned for her.
"Absolutely." Her hand tightened into an eager fist. "It's where I belong. Felicie is doing her best on defense, but no one can pull off crazy stunts like me. Or, so Nicolas says."
"How is Nicolas?"
"He's fine. I think he's happy to be back home for so long. He's been working on rebuilding the ranks on our army."
"Your army, you mean," Odilon corrected gently. "Nicolas is just your number two."
"I mean, if you want to be technical about it. I prefer to think of it as ours together. We're going to be sharing everything eventually, might as well start now."
"Has he asked you yet?" Gael asked eagerly as Odilon looked at her with hope. They were both excited for different reasons. Gael enjoyed being happy for other people, but Odilon was part of the betting pool on when Nicolas would finally ask.
They all knew he was going to eventually. Colette had already practically announced as much to everyone when she had returned from her successful battle at South Gate. However, they also knew that he was waiting to ask because he didn't want Colette to know when it would happen. Hence, the betting pool as to the date.
Colette shook her head. "No, not yet. But it has to be soon. He can't keep me in anticipation like this forever!"
"Well, I'll be praying for your future happiness," Gael promised, holding his hands together in front of himself as though he were doing it at that very moment. "You are both loyal subjects to the king and church, I'm sure you'll raise your children properly in that regard."
"I'm particularly happy for Nicolas," Odilon nodded in agreement. "After what happened five years ago, I was beginning to worry that he wouldn't ever be happy again. I'm glad that he found you, Colette. You are the most precious gem ever pulled from the South Gate mines."
"Aw, Odilon," Colette dithered, her cheeks pinkening. "You're too kind."
There was just something so charming about Lord Odilon Yvain. He was so handsome, and when he flashed that bright smile, it only made him more so. If she wasn't a taken woman, she might be infatuated with him.
She couldn't harbor any such thoughts now. Not because it was wrong, simply because she had no room left for anyone but Nicolas in her heart or mind. He may dress all in black, speak like a crotchety old man, and act like a grump, but he was her grump. He could keep her crazy mind grounded in reality, even while allowing it to fly in whatever direction she desired. That was worth far more than a pretty smile.
Colette wished Gael and Odilon farewell and turned to continue running. She was going to have lunch with Ferrant today since he was already in the Royal Complex. The young blacksmith had finished his majesty's armor and was coming today to deliver it to him.
She ran towards the palace and up the stairs, sprinting inside. Cyrille had told her, since Ferrant was there anyway, that she could feel free to come see him in all his glory. He didn't have much occasion to wear armor any longer since the loss of his dominant hand, someone might as well come pretend to marvel at the sight of him. His words, not hers.
The king was in one of his changing rooms when she was allowed inside. Ferrant was standing at his side, tightening the clasps that held the two top pieces together. Colette stopped just inside and let out a sound of appreciation at the sight her king made.
Unlike her chain mail, which Ferrant had taken the trouble to make appear more like a normal shirt, he had not tried to hide the king's armor as anything but armor. There were shoulder plates trimmed in gold with Flour de Lis patterns painstakingly crafted into them. There were bracers at his forearms and his wooden hand with its gold inlay had been replaced by a fully golden hand with more intricate designs across the knuckles and around the back. Its distinctive style and nearly lifelike shape told her that the hand had come from Ferrant's forge.
Cyrille had a sword at his side, likely purely decorative as he could no longer wield one. However, the egg sized ruby at the end of the pommel was certainly impressive. As was the intricate floral style inlay along the hand guard. The sheath itself, made of poplar wood that had been carved with holy scenes and text and inlaid with gold, was itself a work of art. The golden cords tied around its neck ended with dangling tassels and the belt it was attached to wrapped around the new armor as though designed to do so.
"How do I look, Colette?" The king asked her, admiring his reflection in the long looking glasses that had been placed in front of the small dais that he stood upon while Ferrant affixed his armor in place. Through the three large mirrors, he could see himself from three different angles and all of them were striking.
"Very regal and commanding," Colette admired honestly. Even with the golden hand, he appeared to be a man ready for combat. "Did Ferrant make that sword as well?"
"Ah, yes." He twisted the hilt out to allow her to see it. "This is Caliburnus VI."
"The sixth?" Colette repeated as she walked forward.
"I've had the name through quite a few swords. Though this one might be the most wonderful of them all. Look, Ferrant gave me a left-handed grip." As he spoke, he withdrew the sword with his remaining hand. He held it awkwardly, but he could still hold it.
She admired the way the hand guard was made to wrap around his left hand instead of his right as he beamed at the blade with all apparent delight.
"I've never thought to try learning sword play with my left hand. I imagine it would be quite an ungainly thing to behold, and I highly doubt I could be anywhere near as skilled as I was with my right. However, I'm not unwilling. You've inspired me, Ferrant."
"Happy to be of service, your majesty," the blacksmith assured him, locking the last latch around his waist before stepping back to survey his work.
"Are those steel caps on your boots?" Colette continued moving around, trying to take in every beautiful inch of the artistic war display.
"Indeed." Cyrille flashed the boots with a grin. "There's more of the chain mail in the trousers, but I do look ever so good with the leather over top of them. Someone fetch me Radelle. I want her to see how handsome I look."
Colette laughed. "You do look very fetching, your majesty."
He grinned at her out of the corner of her eye. "So, did he ask yet?"
"No, not yet." She rocked on her heels, grinning. "I met his mother yesterday. She's a very lovely woman. We might have lied, just a bit, about the status of our relationship. She's under the impression that we're already engaged. She's a rather conservative sort of individual."
Cyrille grinned. "Yeah, that's her. Well, be sure to let us know when it happens. I've good money on this bet."
"Not you, too," she laughed. "Who exactly started this pool anyway?"
"Manon did. Little sneak. She's going to make out better than all of us in the end. She had to have inherited that from her mother, because she certainly didn't get it from me."
"She's very shrewd," Ferrant agreed. "She's got a good head for business. She'd have made a great leader in her own regard had she been born first."
Cyrille and Colette both gave him looks.
"What?" He asked, looking between them in confusion.
"When did you start knowing the princess so well?" Colette asked.
"We met when I put my money in the betting pool.
"Wha-? Ferrant!"
"What?" He smirked at her. "I'm allowed to bet on my best friend's future happiness."
Cyrille threw back his head and laughed before clapping Ferrant on the back with his golden hand. The blacksmith took the hard hit without a flinch. "That's the spirit! What day did you bet on? The leader right now is the midsummer festival. Personally, I put it all on fall harvest festival. I think he's really going to string it along."
"He better not," Colette pouted.
Ferrant only grinned. "I'd hate to show my hand this early in the game."
"It's betting, not cards. Tell me."
"Is that an order, your majesty?"
Cyrille frowned at him. "You play dirty. Fine. Don't tell me. How's my hair look?"
"Still perfect. I didn't touch your hair."
"Good." Cyrille nodded before stepping down. "The next group of soldiers is leaving for the front lines. I'm going to bid them farewell in this. Colette, you've returned to active duty, haven't you?"
"As of today, I have!" She beamed excitedly.
He nodded with a frown. "I'm sorry to send you out again so soon, but I'm likely going to need your attention back on the front. Sabine has extended her lines past the towns just beyond the pass. I need you to beat her back some. You'll have to leave immediately after your ceremony tomorrow. It seems unfair to ask you to leave after you've just recovered."
"Nonsense. I'm eager to return. I'll have the message sent out amongst my troops. I know that Skipper will be happy to set sail again. He's getting kind of antsy waiting for me to recover."
"I'm still not entirely comfortable about bringing in a renegade law keeper into the royal navy. I don't think I've met Skipper yet, have I?"
"You'll meet him tomorrow. He promised to wear his best pants. If he can find them."
Cyrille laughed as Ferrant rolled his eyes.
"He's rather uncouth," the blacksmith said, lifting his empty satchel that had been carrying the armor pieces that he had brought with him. "But, he's an honest man, your majesty."
"You've met him?"
"Only a couple times. Usually in passing to visit Colette when she had been confined to her bed."
"He liked to tell me stories of his travels so I wouldn't feel so trapped. I also think he's trying his hardest to stay on as my permanent ship captain. His people were a real asset. Nicolas has been talking about speaking with the navy to incorporate some of his battle strategies and techniques into our training. I think it will work out well."
"We'll consider this a trial run then. I trust your word." The king looked back at himself one more time, making sure that not a single link was out of place.
Bidding farewell to the troops leaving to fight for him in war was one of the more important things that he did, by his own consideration. Every ship that flew away left under his supervision. These people risked their lives for him. If he couldn't do the same in turn, be it due to his title or his disability, then he could at least personally wish them victory.
Part of that was presenting the best face possible. He would be wearing the crown jewels when he actually stepped out there, but the armor he wore now was a far improvement over the last set that he had used to wear. Lighter, stronger, and considerably more fashionable. While the latter was the least important, for a figurehead in the war, it was still a consideration.
"All right." Cyrille nodded once in approval of his appearance. "I'm off to the docks. Thank you again, Ferrant."
"It is my honor, sire." Ferrant bowed formally.
"Whose armor are you making next?"
"That would be, Lady Benoite's. I've already taken her measurements and I've begun sketching out the initial ideas. I'm going to present them to her for her to choose from in a couple days."
"Excellent. Keep up the good work, Ferrant. Good day, Colette."
"Goodbye, your majesty," the two of them bid happily as he walked out.
Colette grinned at Ferrant. "I've got lunch waiting for us in the gardens at the Suite."
Ferrant nodded and started after her as they walked back down through the palace.
"Speaking of Nicolas, where is he right now, anyway? I'm surprised you're not eating with him instead."
"Just because he's my number one doesn't mean I've forgotten my number two." Colette grinned, wrapping her arm through his. "As it happens, he's spending the day with his mother. He wanted to talk to her about me without me being there. She seemed to like me."
"Where you being good?"
"Of course, I was."
"That's why she liked you."
Colette nudged him with a grin. "Meanie. Have you found something nice to wear for the ceremony tomorrow? There will be lots of ladies there without husbands."
"I doubt highly that a high born woman would want a blacksmith," Ferrant grinned.
"A royal blacksmith. Don't understate yourself. Besides, a high born woman would be lucky to have a guy like you."
Ferrant grinned. "I'll take your word for it. I don't think I'm ready to fall in love yet though."
Colette smiled at him obliviously. He smiled back, loving and accepting her for exactly as she was. He didn't want anything else from her but this.
The ceremony given for Colette was thrown in her honor as the victor of Gy-Hamelin, Jorives, and South Gate. She was also being celebrated for saving the people of Antonin Pass that remained loyal to their king despite Gascony's occupation.
The event was taking place in the grand ballroom of the palace. It was larger in both width and height in comparison to the second ballroom. The massive chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling was a work of crystalline art that could be observed from the second level of the ballroom as it sparkled brightly in the light.
A balcony built specifically for an orchestra was shaped in such a way that the sounds from within traveled the entire length of the ballroom. Underneath the balcony, there was a raised dais from which people could speak or performers could be highlighted specifically.
Resting on it now, there was an easel made of gold spun into a rope shape upon which something sat which had been covered by a white silk sheet.
For the occasion, Colette had dressed up again. Her only dress had been burned up when the Cloud Gazer crashed, so she had been forced to have a new one made. Since she didn't really care what it looked like, she had given the seamstress carte blanche to make whatever she desired so long that it wouldn't hinder Colette's movements.
The design that had returned to her, just in time for this event, was quite lovely. It was mostly silver, but the material shimmered and shined with an iridescent, rainbow effect with each step she took. The wide skirt emphasized the curve of her hips while the tight bust highlighted her waist and high breasts that were put almost proudly on display by the off the shoulder straps of the gown. Silver and diamonds sparkled at her neck, ears, and wrist. Her long hair had been let down again and the golden waves provided the only real spark of true color.
She still wore her sword around her waist, attached to a black leather belt. She might be a lady, but she was also a paladin. Masculine, yet still feminine.
Ferrant had escorted her to the event as Nicolas had been busy. He was going to join with them later, but he had ended up sleeping at his mother's house and had decided to dress and come to the celebration from there.
Ferrant found himself uncomfortable until Felicie found him. She had recently returned from the front lines and had caught sight of Prince Erec's new sword. She wanted to talk to him about metallurgy, weaponry, and possibly helping her in the design for her gun. Talking about work instantly put the blacksmith at ease and he fell into the topic eagerly.
Colette, uninterested in such things, left them to it as she walked out into the ball by herself. She was greeted by most of the lords and ladies in attendance. Lord Yvain was there, unaccompanied. He hadn't chosen a companion for the night. Which only meant that all of the matchmaking mommas were attempting to push their daughters onto him. He seemed rather awkward under their feminine assault.
Colette wanted no part of it, so she moved on with only a wave. Sybille was there as well, standing next to a young man that looked remarkably similar to her in appearance. They were deep in conversation about something between only each other and Colette didn't want to disturb them. She continued mindlessly roaming about the room, stopping for a few conversations, refusing a few dances. She kept glancing at the open ballroom doors, waiting for Nicolas to appear.
He found her first. A gentle tap on her shoulder alerted her that someone was behind her and she turned to see him grinning at her.
"Nicolas, you're-..." Her voice cut off as she looked him up and down in surprise.
"Something wrong?" He asked innocently.
"Er, no. Nothing. You look very handsome."
He inclined his head in thanks. The deep, velvet blue of his vest was stretched taught across his muscular chest, only partially hidden by his black cape, held in place by his hawk pin. His trousers and boots were still black, and the blue was a rather dark shade, but it was still color.
"You look rather stunning yourself, my lady," he remarked, bringing up her hand to kiss it. "I'm sorry that I'm late. Mother was fussing. She sends her apologies for being unable to make it, but she says her knee is acting up and she's not suited for moving around."
"That's fine. I'm just glad you're finally here," she beamed, wrapping her arm through his. "Will you dance with me?"
"I'd be happy to."
Nicolas took her by the waist and led her out onto the dance floor. The music flowed around them as they fell into the choreographed steps with ease. Nicolas was grinning at the sight she made in her iridescent gown.
"You should wear dresses more often," Nicolas remarked. "You look good in them."
Colette laughed. "You can't fight in a dress."
"I suppose that's true."
The two of them spun away for a moment, then came back together. Their arms fell into place around each other and Colette grinned.
"His majesty is asking us to ship out again tomorrow."
"Yes, I got your message. Everything should be prepared by tonight. You could at least pretend that you're not so excited at the prospect of returning to war."
"I thought I was."
"That's really rather sad," he smirked. "You're a terrible actress. This is why you're not allowed to do missions that require subterfuge."
Colette stuck her tongue out at him. He bared his teeth before clicking them together as though he might bite it. She giggled, jerking it back into her mouth.
"Don't tempt me to kiss you any further. It would hardly be appropriate out in public like this. We're supposed to be behaving like civilized people, my lady."
"I thought I was," she snickered as she spun her about. They came back together. "Are we retiring to your rooms or mine tonight?"
"Mine are closer."
"Mine are more private."
"That's also true. People do seem to get this funny look on their faces whenever they see you leaving my room in the morning. As though they've never seen the like of you before."
"No, they're checking to see if I'm wearing an engagement ring yet," Colette laughed. "They're all in on the betting pool."
"Ugh, that thing again." He rolled his eyes. "Is there anyone not in on it?"
"Ferrant and his majesty both are."
"I expect that of Cyrille, but Ferrant? What day did he pick?"
Colette shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me. Does the pool bother you?"
Nicolas shrugged a bit. "I suppose it's slightly annoying. As though people have nothing better to do than guess when I'm going to propose marriage."
"Seriously. They should find their own lives. But, on the subject of when-"
"No, I'm still not telling you."
"Nicolas, I really can't handle the waiting anymore. You know how impatient I am. How long are you going to make me wait?"
He grinned, taking her chin in hand. "As long as it takes."
"That's not fair." Colette pouted, her bottom lip puckering out in her unhappiness.
Tempting him. How could he resist such a thing?
He didn't have to. Even as he was leaning over to claim that pouty lip in his kiss, a wooden hand on his shoulder stopped him. He looked over to see Cyrille grinning.
"Later, my friend. Maybe when there aren't so many people around. Come on, it's time for the unveiling."
Colette grinned, her arm wrapping around Nicolas'. The two of them followed Cyrille over to the raised dais where Queen Radelle was already waiting in front of the easel. She was saying something to Odilon where he stood at the front of the crowd. People didn't really stop talking and moving until Cyrille led Colette and Nicolas onto the dais.
The orchestra hung on to their last note, letting it warble sweetly in the air. When it faded away, the ballroom had fallen complete silent. Cyrille beamed out over them.
"Thank you all for coming," he started. The acoustics of the balcony overhead caught his voice and carried it all the way to the back of the room. "I'm honored that you could join me in giving our heartfelt thanks and appreciation to Lady Toinette tonight."
He turned and inclined his head to her. The small gesture set off a chain reaction of full head bows from the gathered lords and ladies. The servants walking amongst the high borns bowed completely at the waist, all of them honoring her.
Colette flushed with pleasure. At her side, their arms still entwined, Nicolas squeezed her wrist gently, giving his own, silent appreciation of her.
Cyrille waited until they had come up again before he continued.
"While in Gy-Hamelin, Lady Colette put herself at personal risk to invade the town and single-handedly crashed an airship that had been put at dock. She then allowed herself to be the target for the ballistae from three different ships so that they could be sunken by her own ship. In the end, she successfully reclaimed Gy-Hamelin for the kingdom."
People cheered for her. Colette shifted her weight a bit uncomfortably. She hadn't really thought it as grand at the time as he just made it sound. It sounded a great deal more impressive in the retelling than it had while it was happening.
Cyrille continued when they quieted again. "In Jorives, Lady Toinette snuck into the city, past the two defensive walls, to rescue the captured high knight, Sir Sacha, and break open the gates for her army to come inside after her. She then stayed to see to the city's prosperity so that the kingdom could be continued to be supplied with food from their fields."
More cheering.
"In Antonin Pass, Lady Toinette fought off an army to allow her people time to retreat, then was taken prisoner and greatly injured. Even then, she was able to work with Sir Sacha to ensure that a great many of those loyal to me and Vasconia were rescued from inside."
"That's a straight lie," Colette frowned.
"Sh," Nicolas squeezed her wrist again gently.
"And, in South Gate, still not fully healed from Antonin Pass, Lady Toinette drove out General Firmin Didier, rerouted an entire river, and created a lake that now protects South Gate from further invasion from below."
People clapped for her again. Cyrille joined them, giving her a grin over his shoulder. She smiled back, thinking that everything sounded far more epic when he spoke then when she actually remembered everything.
The king once again waited for the people to quiet down before he continued. "Though Lady Toinette has been a paladin for some time now, though she has done many great deeds for the sake of the kingdom, it is only now that her painting has been finished."
He gestured to the easel, drawing all eyes to the covered portrait.
"Lady Toinette's visage shall hang in the Hall of Paladins from this day to eternity. She will forever be honored for her deeds, both past and future, that brought her here. Ladies and gentlemen, from the artist Aurelien Gaspard, I present to you, Lady Paladin Colette Toinette."
Radelle, who had grabbed the edge of the silk cover, pulled it away at her husband's declaration.
The painting had been created by the same person who had done every other paladin's portrait, all the way up to Nina. The realistic style with which he painted, his use of color and shadow, was astounding as it highlighted Colette's bright hair and eyes against a bright background of flowers and grass. She had her sword in her hand, resting against her shoulder so that the hilt was visible. She had been painted with a cocky grin, her eyes shining even through the pain she had been experiencing at the time. The chain mail and sword should have made it masculine, but it was still somehow very feminine.
It was the first time that Colette had seen it. She gasped and clapped along with the others as she looked it over.
"Where is the artist?" She asked Cyrille, looking around for him. She felt that he should be here for the unveiling of his masterpiece, but she didn't see him.
"Aurelien doesn't really like fancy events," Cyrille shrugged. "You met him, didn't you? He's a bit of an outcast."
"Well, yes, but I only met him the once, when he posed me for that painting. It was a rather odd process. He just moved me around, got me into position, stared at me for a moment, then told me that was all he needed. I thought I would have to sit for hours."
Cyrille grinned. "Aurelien only needs see something once and he'll have it memorized. It's quite the useful skill, isn't it?"
Colette nodded. "Very useful. It almost sounds like a paladin's skill."
"It does, but I'm afraid that Aurelien possesses no sword skill. Also, when have you ever heard of a male paladin? That's funny to even think about."
Colette laughed along with him. "I suppose so. I'll have to send him a thank you note then. It's a stunning portrait."
"I agree," Nicolas grinned. "It really captures that impish quality of yours."
"Impish? I'm not impish." Colette leaned into his shoulder as Cyrille turned out to address the people again.
"Tomorrow, once more, Lady Toinette will be returning to the front lines to protect us and our way of life. Queen Sabine has shown us her hand and we have no choice but to respond in kind. Therefore, tonight, we will wish Lady Toinette well, and bid her luck and victory in her future battles. I know that she will make me proud. Ladies and gentlemen, Lady Colette Toinette."
Cyrille indicated for her to come forward and speak. Which she did only after sharing an apprehensive glance with Nicolas. She wasn't particularly opposed to public speaking, but it wasn't something that she particularly excelled at.
Still, she stepped forward on the dais with as much confidence as she could muster. The people's eyes all turned to her and she gave them her brightest smile.
"Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight," she started simply. "Knowing it is for you all that I'm fighting makes the battle easier. Truly, I am the one who is honored to be standing on the front lines, defending our king and kingdom. Thank you for your support, and please continue to give it to King Cyrille and all of our brave soldiers."
She received polite claps as she stepped back. Nicolas smiled at her, rather proud.
"That was very well spoken," he praised softly into her ear.
"Sybille wrote it for me," she confessed with a snicker. "She didn't approve of what I was actually going to say."
"Thank the Lord for paladins," Nicolas breathed, not yet wrapping her arm through his again. He could only imagine what she would have confessed to this room full of lords and ladies. He didn't think they would be as understanding about the enjoyment she found in battle as the soldiers and knights were. Better that Sybille simply give her a script.
Cyrille returned to the front of the dais. This time, at this side, Master Eneas was standing there holding the holy record that held all the names of the paladins. He smiled at Colette before turning to face the gathered group of people.
"The Lord's blessings on you all," he said, making a motion with his hands over them, as though he were wiping away dust from a window. He turned to the king. "The Lord's blessings on you especially, sire. May His holy light give you inspiration and direction in leading our people through the dark times that lay ahead."
Cyrille bowed his head, accepting the blessing. Master Eneas turned to Colette and motioned for her to come forward again and stand with him.
She extracted herself from Nicolas' side and came to the front, smiling. Eneas smiled back at her, clutching the book close to his heart.
"Evening, Colette," he greeted warmly, speaking more quietly to her alone.
"Good evening, Master Eneas," she smiled, clasping her hands together before her.
"You look lovely tonight."
"As do you. Or, handsome, I suppose. Am I allowed to call a priest handsome? That's a very fetching robe. Fine robe. Erm..."
"Handsome is fine. Or lovely. Either way," Eneas chuckled, straightening the formal robe with the intricate, golden sash draped over his neck. The pristine white robe was the standard fare for the clergymen, but the sash, the golden sandals, the golden rope around his waist tying the robe in place, were all markings of his rank as head of the church.
He would rather not wear them. In times that ceremony wasn't involved, he wouldn't. He would wear the same brown cord as the other acolytes and priests, discarding the sash entirely. He was of the belief that all were equal in the eyes of the Lord, and therefore he would humble himself at every opportunity. The trappings of gold and finery were unnecessary for his service.
However, that didn't mean that he didn't appreciate it was appropriate to dress up at times. The finery he wore now wasn't for himself; it was for the benefit of Colette. He wore it to show that he respected her as a paladin and that he, as the head of the church, acknowledged her importance and sacrifice. If some shiny accoutrement helped give that impression to the people, then he wasn't unwilling to don them for the occasion.
"Your most recent deeds have been added to the holy record," Eneas let the book fall open in his arm, her page already marked by a jeweled cord that originated within the spine of the book. Incredibly neat calligraphy stained the jewel white page inky black where her name, her titles, and her story had been meticulously added by Eneas' stable hand.
In the margins of her page, tiny drawings where being added into the golden trim. She saw the mountains of South Gate at the top, the Holy Sacellum, her chain mail, an airship, a large fountain spraying water, and Antonin Pass. More would be added as her life and accomplishments continued.
Master Eneas continued speaking, "There is, however, one thing that we still don't have. I do believe that you've had enough time to think by now."
"Yes, Master Eneas," Colette beamed.
"Then, tell me, Colette. What is the name that you have given to your sword? Let us all hear it so that we can place it into the holy record."
Reaching across her body, Colette took hold of the hilt and pulled the blade free from its sheath. Ferrant had recently sharpened and shined the metal; it sparkled brighter than a diamond in the light of the crystal chandelier hanging over their heads.
She held it out between her two hands, balancing it on her open palms as she presented it up for Master Eneas' inspection.
He smiled, reaching up with a hand to run his first two fingers along the body of the blade. He moved down, allowing them to sing along the edge.
Colette spoke, "I gave my word to protect this country. I swore it on my life and honor. You bore witness to that vow, Master Eneas."
"Indeed, I did."
"I have also done my best to uphold that vow. It was when I was faced with defeat that I found the hardest time keeping to it. I failed in my mission and allowed Antonin Pass to remain out of our hands. My decisions cost many people their lives, and that is a shame that I will forever bear on my soul. I had forgotten, in my own arrogance, that when you are defeated, the most important thing that you can do is to try again. I fell, and I forgot how to get back to my feet."
"We all forget sometimes, just as we all fall," Master Eneas smiled kindly, placing his hands over hers and holding onto the sword with her.
Colette nodded. "So, then, I would like to make a new vow here and now, Master Eneas. I want you, and all of these people, to witness it. I swear, on my honor, on my name, on my life, in the name of the Lord and his holy light, by the power he invested in me through my sight, that no matter how many times I should fail or fall, I will never surrender. I will never falter. My resolution shall never again waver. I will fight, I will stand, until my last breath. This is my Covenant, to Vasconia and its people. I will stake my life by this sword. I shall use it to guard, to protect, and to preserve the sanctity of our kingdom, and to return what has been taken."
Eneas nodded. He turned his hands, gently taking the weapon in from her outstretched palms. She started to caution him about the edges as they were sharp enough to cut with very little pressure. He just gave her a smile as he turned, holding the sword over his head.
"This sword has been smelted by the master blacksmith, Ferrant Barnabe. The metal alloy was brought to us from the mountains of South Gate in a combination that only he knows. It is stronger than our traditional steel, sharper and brighter. It represents the strength of the Lord given to us during our hour of need, wielded by the paladin from South Gate."
Eneas lowered it down and pressed his lips against the center of the blade. "Blessings upon this blade, representative of Colette's Covenant. May the Lord guide her through the trials and battles that still lay ahead."
He turned and offered it back to her. Colette smiled as she grasped the hilt and lifted it from his hands and over her head. She watched the way it shimmered in the light for a long moment before twisting it around and sheathing it back in one smooth move.
Master Eneas smiled, gesturing to her. "Then let it be written into the holy record, witnessed by these lords and ladies, the king and queen themselves, the presentation of Lady Colette Toinette of South Gate, paladin of our Lord and king, protector of Vasconia and her people, the Holy Eye, Truthsayer, and wielder of the sword Covenant!"
The cold stillness of the night air was a welcome respite from the energy and exuberance pouring from the open doors and windows of the grand ballroom. Though Colette was definitely the type to enjoy such energy, Nicolas found it was tiring to try and keep up with it for so many hours on end. He needed a brief respite to simply be amongst the stars and wind.
Honestly, most of his time while in there had been spent watching Colette be herself. She didn't try to flaunt her titles nor did she play the formal games the lords and ladies enjoyed. She remained ever delightfully herself as she danced and joked and laughed with equal zeal. When someone approached her as polite and distant, she would simply extract herself from the conversation. She had no desire to be part of anything so boring.
Nicolas loved that about her, he really did. Her effortless enthusiasm for life was infectious and he found himself following her all around the grand party so he could be part of it. Whenever a song struck her fancy, she would pull him into a dance. If she spotted food on the long banquet tables that she wanted to try, she insisted that he taste it with her. When any thought entered her head, she had to share it with him on the spot and converse with him about it. She told him her jokes, she whispered her happy little quips to him, and she pulled him along if he threatened to fall behind.
He didn't just want to be beside her, she wanted him there. She wanted to live her life as vibrantly as she always had, but she also wanted to bring him along with her. She wanted him to experience all of those things as she did and find just as much enjoyment in them.
And he did. He really did.
But he also still found enjoyment in the stillness. Out here in the cool night air with the sounds of music and laughter and dancing coming from behind as he stood out in the wonderful gardens. Most of the flowers had closed their buds for the night. However, there were some pale white moon flowers, glowing in the brightness of their namesake, around one of the fountains. He stood near them, admiring their star-shaped petals as he watched the water from the fountain sparkle in the moonlight.
"Nicolas."
The soft call of his name turned him around as Colette walked towards him on the path. She was smiling brightly as her shoes clicked on the stone beneath them.
"What are you doing all the way out here?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.
Nicolas shrugged. "Enjoying the silence."
"Oh. It is nice." She looked around, smiling at the flowers he had just been admiring. She stopped as she drew even with him on the path. As she watched the water in the fountain, he watched her face in the moonlight.
"That speech you made was very well done."
She beamed at him. "Thank you."
"Did Sybille write that one as well?"
She shook her head, making her hair fly about her face. "No, that was me. Was it good?"
Nicolas reached between them and took her hand. He cradled it gently in his. "It was marvelous. Very well spoken."
She lifted their hands and kissed the side of his thumb gently, surprising him. He smiled.
"I was really nervous," she admitted. "I was... kind of scared."
"You did perfectly. I like the name."
Colette giggled. "It felt right. A promise is all I can really give anyone. I'm good for fighting and not much else, so my vow to protect is all I have."
"That's hardly all." Nicolas lifted their joined hands and made her twirl slowly as she laughed. He brought her in as though they had been dancing. "You've given me plenty more than just a fight. Though, you have given me that in spades."
"Oh?" She grinned, her eyes sparkled in anticipation.
Nicolas nodded, continuing to move her gently to the music, not quite in time with the tempo but never really out of step with it either. The dance he was guiding her through was a simple swaying of their bodies as his fingers locked together with hers.
"You've given me your smile," he said, grinning. "You've given me your laughter. You've given me your fear."
"My fear? That hardly seems worthy of note."
"Absolutely it is, because of the trust and reliance you had to give me first. You could hardly accept your fear. I had to hold onto it until it matured for you."
Colette tossed back her hair, her face close to his, tempting him down into a kiss. He very nearly closed the distance between them, but he wanted to say this first.
"You gave me your back to guard in battle, and your ear when you need advice. You've given me a place to rest my woes and grief so that I don't have to carry the burden of them alone. While I held your fear, you held my guilt. Then, when you smiled, so could I. You've returned to me a joy for life that I didn't realize I had lost until I saw yours."
Colette's playful smile had slipped away. Now she was just staring at him, her gray eyes wide in surprise, the tears pooling within them catching in the starlight above.
"And then, after I thought you had given me everything it was possible to give, you gave me something else. A promise. A small oath. You promised me today. And I thought that meant only today. Right now. And that by tomorrow, the promise would be null.
"But now I see that today never ends. We never get to experience tomorrow. Hidden in that transient oath was the promise of forever. I simply didn't recognize it for what it was at first, and I foolishly offered you that same oath in return not knowing the significance of it."
"Nicolas..." Her voice warbled with emotion. In expectation. She knew what was coming, and even knowing it, her heart still squeezed and her guts twisted to hear what he was about to ask.
"However, I am a man of my word," he grinned. He leaned forward and kissed her nose sweetly. "And that promise is as true now as it was then, perhaps even more so. I promise you today, Colette, just as you've promised me. And the next today. And the next today. For the unending today, and then the next today afterward."
She bit her lip, trying to avoid crying, knowing it was a losing battle. Nicolas grinned, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight as he finally captured her mouth as he had been aching to do the entire night.
Colette tasted of sweet dreams and promise. Of vitality and life. There was a special sort of spice in taste of her tongue, in the way her hands clenched onto his shirt, under his cape, as she bent her body into his to press herself as tightly into him as possible.
She didn't know what to think or what to feel. For as much as she knew that this moment was incoming, she didn't think she was actually prepared for it. Should she say yes? Should she play at being cute and coy just for the laugh? Maybe she should make him beg for forcing her to wait all this time for him to ask her to marry him.
It was a fun thought, but she knew she wouldn't do it. She was so impatient and strained to her breaking point already that she likely wouldn't allow him to even finish the question. She just wanted him to ask it already.
Nicolas, however, was perfectly content to take his sweet time kissing his lady. Worshiping her mouth as he ran his fingers down the arch of her spine. He grinned at the desperation in her kiss, as though she were trying to hurry him through this part while still enjoying it to the fullest.
His lady was so impatient. It was rather cute, how eager she was.
Nicolas broke the kiss, leaning back to smile at her. Her eyes, half-lidded, full of stars and unshed tears, watched him eagerly.
"We should get back," he indicated with his head.
The simple suggestion, made with a smile, broke the spell over her immediately. She blinked, her eyes focusing on him properly as she pulled back just bit.
"Get... back?"
Nicolas nodded, stroking her cheek. "The guest of honor can hardly go missing halfway through the party. Not that I would mind retiring early, but I do think the lords and ladies would pretend to be absolutely scandalized while they gossiped about us mercilessly."
She frowned. "What's to gossip about? Everyone already knows."
"Yes, but it's different to know it intellectually than it is to see it flaunted before your face. Besides, they love to gossip."
"I don't really care what they love."
Nicolas grinned, booping her nose. "I bet you expected me to ask you to marry me, didn't you?"
She held out her arms as though to say 'duh' before letting them flop back to her sides. "That speech was so perfect, and the moment was just right. Why didn't you?"
"I told you, I'm waiting for you to not anticipate it."
"You're a very cruel man." She pouted, crossing her arms and looking away. The sound of his boots on the stone walkway made her turn back in surprise.
She didn't know why, but it actually seemed a bit shocking to see him walking away. As though she had been expecting him to declare it all a joke and ask her anyway. But there he was, walking back towards the ballroom and leaving her there gaping like a fish.
She rushed after him, reaching for his arm. "Nicolas, come on! You can't keep doing this to me. You know I'm no good at-"
He turned and smoothly slid the ring he had hidden in his palm onto the third finger of her grasping hand. The words died in her throat as she saw the delicately braided silver metal gleaming up at her, the tiny gemstone chips decorating it sparkling in the moonlight.
Nicolas grinned at the stunned expression on her face as she came up short, staring at the tiny ring with eyes wide in shock.
Being unprepared for it made her heart stutter and her mind falter. She couldn't seem to remember any of the reactions that she had just thought up a moment ago. She could barely remember how to breathe much less think of a way to react.
Nicolas whispered into her ear, "Will you promise me today once again, Colette?"
The tears that hadn't fallen before finally escaped from the corners of her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as her mouth worked soundlessly up and down.
Nicolas chuckled at her reaction. He pressed his lips against her cheek and the touch seemed to break the enchantment over her. She clutched her hand close to her chest, beaming at him with tear filled eyes.
"Oh, Nicolas... Yes! Yes, I promise."
She threw her arms around him. Not to kiss him, just to embrace him. Her weak legs couldn't possibly support her for another moment. He held her up. He always held her up. Strengthening her weakness and supporting her vulnerability.
A long cry from the direction of the ballroom broke them apart. They looked across the garden to see Cyrille and Ferrant standing in the doorway of the ballroom. Cyrille was the one who had cried out and he looked positively devastated. Beside him, grinning with his arms crossed, Ferrant appeared smug and victorious.
"Cyrille?" Nicolas called out, frowning. "Is something wrong?"
"I lost!" The king yelled. "You've betrayed me, Nicolas! I put all my money on the fall harvest festival. You weren't supposed to do it this soon!"
Colette started giggling as Nicolas rolled his eyes.
"Sorry to disturb you," Ferrant called up to them. "Return to what you were doing."
"And why are you so smug?" Cyrille asked, frowning. His eyes narrowed. "You won the bet, didn't you?"
"Your majesty, we're intruding on a very private moment," Ferrant said solemnly. "Perhaps we should return inside and leave them to their affairs."
"You traitor!" Cyrille accused as Ferrant turned around. The king started walking into the ballroom, grumbling about the three of them unhappily.
Ferrant took one last look back at the couple. His expression was unreadable for a long moment, making Colette frown.
"Ferrant? Is something wrong?" She called out over the distance.
He smiled. "Everything is wonderful, Colette. You better name your first son after me."
Colette was giggling as the young blacksmith turned to walk back inside. Nicolas frowned at his back for a moment before giving him a small smile. He touched his new fiancee's arm and drew her attention back onto him.
"Is this all right, my lady?" Nicolas asked, lifting her hand so that her ring sparkled against their combined hands.
"I love it," she smiled, touching it gently. "Where did you get it?"
"It's a family heirloom. I picked it up from mother's house yesterday."
"Oh! You-!" She nudged him gently. Her smile fell just a bit, but it didn't fully fade. She looked up at him. "Are you sure about this? Being married and partners in the war? It could be very dangerous for us on the front lines. One of us could get captured. One of us could die."
"Precisely the reason I wanted to do it before we left. The only thing we have is today, Colette. Therefore, we have to grasp each today and take it for all it's worth. Today is all that you and I will ever have, and today can be just a few hours, or it can be an eternity. The unknowing is what makes it precious. So, let's take our today and let's live it together."
He kissed the ring, holding her fingers tightly.
For whatever hardships the war ahead would bring them, whatever battles they would face, the promise they made would hold them together.
This oath, this vow, this covenant, of today.