25Summary: Fourth in the Paladins Series: In the war between Vasconia and Gascony, something big is beginning to stir. In the course of finding what it is, a spy has gone missing. Unfortunately for Felicie, that spy is one of her sister paladins.
On a mission to discover why she has gone missing and what she discovered, Felicie Medee is sent into Lloegyr to discover what Gascony is planning. To that end, she has to make friends with the ambassador, Shiloh Cy, a man who's just as silly and frivolous as she pretends to be. Her mission is to find out what Lloegyr is doing-
-and Cy's is to stop her at all costs. Raised in the secret caste of spies, Cy plays a role in public that no one has ever seen through or matched. Lady Paladin Felicie seems to be just as ridiculous as his persona and he can't understand why people are so concerned about her. Until he finds himself pitted against her real power and purpose.
Lloegyr is neutral in the war, all three countries have made the agreement. But Felicie has to find what happened to her sister paladin while trying to discover what Gascony is planning all the while fighting against the first man that has ever been her equal. However, some things are more important than her feelings and, no matter how much he excites her, nothing can come before the duty to her country or her sister.
A Woman of Fashion
Approaching a turn in the hall of the fabulous Grosamadour Palace of Vasconia, Felicie nearly skidded into a fall as she sprinted down the marble corridor. The indigo, floor length skirt was gathered up in her hands, but still came close to tripping her as she slid gracefully through the turn. Gracefully, until her body hit the wall between the large, pane glass windows. Grunting upon impact, she pushed herself off the wall as she hastily transferred her skirts into only one hand.
With the other, she reached up in an effort to try and fix her auburn curls back into the band that they were quickly escaping from. All the while, she continued to sprint down the empty but brightly lit, ornate halls. The fact that there was no one else around only made her run faster.
She was late.
She had given herself extra time to get ready today, knowing full well that it would take her longer to dress and do her hair and makeup. Still, despite the extra allotted hour, she had barely finished before the ceremony was set to begin.
Running full sprint down the hall, her ears finally perked up at the sound of distant music. It didn't sound like the formalities had begun, which meant she was just in time.
Slowing down to a more reasonable but still fast paced walk, she released the hem of her dress so that she could fix her hair with both hands instead.
Despite the marathon she had raced all the way from the Paladin's Suite, across the Royal Complex courtyard, and through the palace itself, she didn't look any worse for wear. A few curls had escaped the jeweled band, but the effect was more sensual than messy. As soon as she finished adjusting her hair, she smoothed out the skirt of her dress, fixing the sheer shawl that she had resting across her elbows, curling around her back.
Felicie was considered a highly fashionable woman on even the most common of occasions. There was never any expense spared when it came to her wardrobe, either in fabric or jewels, and the result was a fine, high class lady that others simultaneously envied and admired.
The doors to the ceremony hall were shut when she arrived, making her grimace. If she had been on time, they would have been opened and waiting for the guests to file through. Felicie didn't particularly mind being fashionable late normally, but for such an auspicious occasion...
Taking a breath, she placed her hand on the latch and gently pulled down. The white silk glove sparkled in the light that came from the small crack she made, trying to sneak through. She opened the door only as far as necessary, hoping to slide inside unnoticed.
It was a hope that was immediately dashed when, upon peeking through, she saw that the entire hall had turned to look at the door. The people that had gathered, all wearing their finest gowns and suits, had separated into two halves along either wall, leaving a clear and wide path through the grand ballroom. They had been chatting, waiting for the official start of the ceremony. The path they made, however, left it all too obvious that Felicie was opening the door.
Which, of course, completely defeated the purpose of sneaking. And, if she couldn't sneak inside...
Throwing open both doors without apology, Felicie burst inside with a bright smile, arms thrown out as those few that had managed to not see her the first time jumped and turned.
"Morning, my friends!" She called delightedly, waving as she walked forward down the cleared path. "Good morning to you. And to you. And-Oh! My! That dress is beautiful. You must tell me who-Eep!"
A hand suddenly closed around her arm and she was jerked to the side. She found herself grinning into the irritated face of her friend and sister paladin, Sybille. She was one of the highest born ladies here and her expensive gown of the finest, palest pink reflected her wealth with an elegant and unpracticed air. However, the scowl on her face cut through any dreamy sweetness of an illusion the gown could create.
"Those are darling earrings. Emeralds?" Felicie asked, beaming innocently.
"Peridots. And, what are you doing?" Sybille's voice was tight as she dragged Felicie away from the central area and back to where the only other paladin was standing.
There were only three that were in attendance. Not all of them were able to make it on account of the war drawing them away from home. Elaine and Lea had to hold the front lines together.
Which left Felicie, Sybille, and Nina still in Gwenael in order to attend the wedding of Lady Paladin Colette Toinette and the high knight, Sir Nicolas Sacha. She was the first paladin of their generation to marry, and the ceremony had all the pomp and circumstance such an occasion would require. As fellow paladins, the three of them were required and delighted to attend. The others had to keep the war at bay.
"You're late." Nina said, giving Felicie a look that held no real heat. She was accustomed to Felicie showing up after everyone else. Usually, she wasn't so flagrant about it.
"You almost missed the ceremony." Sybille chastised, finally releasing her arm.
Felicie was barely listening to their complaints. Instead she was waving her fingers with a happy smile across the pathway where King Cyrille was giving her a similar gesture. He didn't at all appear bothered by her entrance, though Queen Radelle, who stood beside him, certainly did.
She elbowed her husband in the side and his smile immediately turned sheepish. Felicie couldn't hear him from across the room, but she could read his lips.
"I was just saying hello..." He was saying as Princess Manon, who stood on her mother's other side, laughed softly into her hand. Prince Eric, who stood beside his father, was doing better at hiding his smile, but only by biting into his lips.
Felicie couldn't help but giggle herself. King Cyrille was a fun and happy individual who treated most people as friends, and those that were closest to him as family. His right hand sparkled bright gold and immobile, a regal replacement for the one he lost, while his eyes sparkled with happiness at the event surrounding him.
Since the Cunegond War had begun last year, most of his days had been filled with woe and dark tidings as he dealt with attacks, shortages, and near constant announcements of death and loss. He was far too bright an individual to shoulder such burdens.
A wedding, something pure and happy and hopeful, was the sort of event that he hadn't had the opportunity to attend in far too long. That the groom happened to be one of his closest friends, and the man that had saved his life the day he lost his right hand, only made the occasion better.
"What took you so long, anyway?" Sybille asked. "His majesty specifically asked that we be here early so that he could introduce us to people."
"We've already met everyone." Felicie frowned, pulling her gloves tighter. "Who did we need to meet?"
"The delegation from Lloegyr arrived today." Nina reminded her, tossing her hair back, the shimmering pale blue of her gown sparkling as she did so. "Did you forget?"
"Oh. Right." Felicie looked around, but she couldn't see any foreign faces. "Are they here?"
"They're standing in the back on the groom's side." Sybille informed her. "We'll have to introduce you after the ceremony. The ambassador says that you met in Lloegyr before."
"What was his name?"
"Shiloh Cy...Cythai?" Nina struggled to say it properly.
"Shiloh Cy-Ithai." Sybille corrected. "They have three names in Lloegyr."
"Oh, Cy!" Felicie beamed. "I barely got to wish him farewell when I was there before. Elaine was busy being ridiculous then. I'm excited to meet with him again."
"Then, why were you so late?" Sybille asked, crossing her arms. She didn't appreciate people that couldn't even abide basic schedules.
"I couldn't decide what color of lip paint I should use." Felicie beamed, the pink she had chosen shining as she did so. "What do you think? Should I have used something more red or maybe one of the more orange ones? It was a hard choice."
"Unbelievable." Sybille shook her head.
"You're wearing lip paint, too." Felicie gestured to the rosy pink on her lips. "You should know how hard it can be to pick a color."
"My handmaidens pick my paints. I don't have the time to bother with such frivolities. I don't understand how you do." Sybille's tone was harsh and cold.
"Don't be angry with me." Felicie pouted, eyelashes fluttering. "I'll apologize."
Nina shook head. "Later, Felicie. We're about to begin. Master Eneas is coming."
It wasn't until she pointed it out that Felicie realized that the excited chatter had softly begun dying as the doors were slowly opened again. This time, it was a pair of men - one young, one old - that walked through together.
The younger man, fair golden hair settled around his handsome and innocent face, was carrying a large, heavy tome bound in creamy leather and stamped in silver. The long white robe covering the entirety of his body as well as the peaceful expression in his eyes made him seem partially divine. Gael Lemoine, a young priest that was slated to one day replace the master of the Sacellum.
The older man, the current master of the Sacellum, Master Eneas Geoffroi was beginning to bend with his age and relied on a knobby cane to walk. His peaceful smile in his wizened face looked as though it held a secret while his open and trusting eyes seemed to display his soul itself. He wore an identical white robe that covered his entire body, though he also had a golden sash across his chest marking him as the highest individual in the entire church. He was the only one who wore such a thing. Everyone else did not display their rank through ornamentation. Gael was indistinguishable in uniform from even the lowest acolyte still in training to be a priest.
As Master Eneas walked through, his cane clacking intermittently with the shuffling of his sandals, the hall gradually grew completely silent. Gael walked just a step behind him, his footsteps slowed so he wouldn't pass by the older man. The crowd all bowed to him as he passed. As they drew even with them, Eneas nodded his head and Gael bowed to first the paladins, then the royal family.
The two stopped at the end of the path and turned together, Gael stepping back behind Eneas. The older man smiled out at the gathered group who all remained bowed to him but rose, as he turned, in unison. He waited until he had all of their eyes before speaking.
"The Lord sees and loves you all." He called, his voice strong despite his age. "His love is the greatest gift that He has bestowed upon us. It is love that binds us in families, as friends, and as partners. Love persists, even in the darkest of times, and gives us purpose in our lives. Marriage, that sacred right, ties individuals together, binding them in love. Far more than family, far more than simple friends, the love that joins a couple is the pinnacle of true love. That is why we call them lovers."
He gestured to the door and the two standing there moved to the handles. On one side, a pleasantly plump elderly woman with a bright smile. On the other, a thinner, slightly younger woman whos black hair had already turned mostly gray. At Master Eneas' signal, they turned the latches and opened the doors, revealing the two that stood beyond.
Arm in arm, Colette and Nicolas smiled at the group of people that waited for them. Both of them were wearing robes, similar to those worn by the priests. There were some differences, mostly in that there was less volume to the fabric so it didn't swallow them up. They were barefoot, their hair down and unadorned and their bodies free of any jewelry or unnecessary ornaments.
The two older women came forward, smiling, and took their free hands so that they could lead them forward.
Master Eneas smiled as they were walking, their bare feet silent on the marble tiles. He spoke as they closed the distance. "Colette Toinette. Nicolas Sacha. Strip away your illusions, your masks, your artifice and step forward together bound only in the love and trust that you bear."
Stopping before him, they turned from each other to kiss the cheeks of the women who had guided them down the path.
"Grandmother." Colette smiled at her as the elder woman dabbed at her eyes.
"Mother." Nicolas said, pushing her hair back for her.
"Thank you for the love you have given me." They spoke together in ceremony. "I take the love you have instilled and I bring it forward into my new life."
The two elder women moved back and Colette and Nicolas shared another smile before closing the final steps between them and Master Eneas.
Gael moved forward then, opening the book and holding it out so that the two of them could see the marked page clearly.
Eneas continued speaking. "Love binds us, not in words or in actions, but in our heart. In our feelings. It is far more than what we say or do. It transcends the physical world and exists within and all around us as something far more than tangible. There cannot be true love without trust, acceptance, and dependence upon one another. Colette, you first."
Reading from the book, she recited. "I, Colette Toinette, step forward with no hesitation in my heart. I stand here by my own volition and willingly enter into this union."
"Nicolas, now you."
"I, Nicolas Sacha, step forward with no hesitation in my heart. I stand here by my own volition and willingly enter into this union."
"This covenant between you, witnessed by those gathered here, exists from this day until your last. State your oaths to one another." Eneas instructed as Gael flipped the page.
Colette was practically bouncing in place with her excitement. Nicolas was smiling, but he was considerably calmer as he laced his fingers through hers.
"I, Colette Toinette, hereby swear my love eternally to Nicolas Sacha."
"I, Nicolas Sacha, hereby swear my love eternally to Colette Toinette."
They spoke together. "I will take no other lover. I will place none above my lover. From this day until our last, I hereby will myself to you. I give you my life, my goods, and my heart. I ask only your love in return. I accept this gift given to me by the Lord of your love and swear fealty, fidelity, loyalty, and, above all things, love to you forever more."
Colette spoke on her own. "I promise any children I bear will be of your line."
"I promise to give my children only to you."
"I consign myself to your name."
"I accept you into my family and acknowledge your new name."
Eneas took over as Gael closed the book and stepped back once more. "Then, I hereby christen you forevermore Colette Sacha, wife of Nicolas Sacha. Allow the record to reflect this change. Nicolas, face your wife."
Smiling, they turned and looked at one another. Their hands naturally changed positions, flattening so that their palms were pressed together, held up between them.
Eneas stepped forward, pulling a pair of golden rope bracelets from his robe. With their hands bound together, he fastened them over their wrists, binding them to one another. The tiny chain that connected the bracelets dangled delicately in the air.
"Your vows are witnessed. As an extension of the Lord's will, I accept your vows as truth and place my blessings upon you. This marriage of Nicolas and Colette Sacha is hereby recognized by the church. In the Lord's name, I bind you."
A loud cheer went up through the gathered people as Nicolas and Colette's fingers laced again. Their smiles were wide and Eneas touched their shoulders with an equally happy grin.
From where she stood, Felicie was smiling as well as she clapped. She didn't raise her voice along with the others, but she didn't hesitate to throw her hands together.
It was a happy ceremony, and the reception afterwards would last for likely the rest of the day. Felicie certainly didn't mind the party. It was the ceremony that genuinely baffled her.
The golden bracelets on their wrists gleamed as they faced their friends and family, all of whom were rushing forward with well wishes and congratulations. They were simple, as far as jewelry went, and neither of them would likely wear them long. Most couples were content to wear their engagement rings, allowing the marriage bands to be put away for safekeeping. Mostly because it was considered a bad omen if the bracelet were to break.
All this talk of love and bindings and devotion was sweet, Felicie supposed. But, she was curious why such things were so seemingly important.
Absolute trust? Felicie didn't think such a thing existed. The one person she trusted more than all others, her sister, would lie to her in a moment without hesitation or guilt. Felicie could honestly say that she could lie to her just as easily.
There was no such thing as stripping away a person's masks or their lies. Everyone always had some part of them that they hid from others. It was essential. The idea that someone could be completely honest with another, and that they would trust them completely, was a concept so foreign to Felicie that it seemed outright laughable.
However, she wasn't going to bring down such a happy ceremony. So, she fixed a bright smile onto her face and walked forward, congratulating her friends with the same amount of vigor as the others - probably a bit more. Even if the ceremony and concept behind it was stupid, she could at least be happy that the two of them were so happy together. That counted for something, she supposed.
From where they had been waiting in the wings for the ceremony to finish, servants began to emerge bearing trays of food, wine, and water. A small, six piece string band on a high balcony began to play once again, having paused for the exchanging of vows.
After she had wished them well, Felicie stepped back to allow others to do the same. Taking a glass of wine from one of the wondering trays, she sipped at it as she walked about the ballroom. People were naturally breaking off into familiar and comfortable groupings. Felicie jumped between and around them, talking to nearly everyone in the same cheery voice.
Across the hall, standing awkwardly around all the high born lords and ladies, Colette's dearest and oldest friend, Ferrant Barnabe, was trying his hardest not to look out of place. Unlike the paladins, royalty, and nobility that surrounded him, he was common born. Though he was the official blacksmith of the royal family and paladins, he wasn't a lord. It was a distinction that made him noticeably awkward.
As a result, he was always rather uncomfortable in such situations. He wasn't going to miss his best friend's wedding, but it was apparent that he wished that he was elsewhere. He was holding a glass of wine, which looked comical in his large, calloused hands, and he had dressed up in clothes that were obviously new but didn't fit well around his muscular frame.
Years as a blacksmith had left him with large arms and shoulders and he himself was decently tall. To look at him was to be slightly intimidated, but his face was usually set in a friendly smile, at least when it wasn't as obviously uncomfortable as it was now.
Unable to help herself, Felicie began snickering as she changed direction and walked towards him. He saw her coming and, instead of being relieved, he stiffened.
"Lady Felicie." He greeted formally, inclining his head.
"Ferrant, darling!" She purred, wrapping her arm through his, leaning against him in a way that stunned him into stillness. "Isn't this a wonderful day? Beautifully romantic, wouldn't you say?"
He looked off into the crowd where Colette was leaning into Nicolas, the two of them smiling as they talked with Queen Radelle.
"It really is." He nodded, his smile softening.
Ferrant had followed Colette into Gwenael all the way from South Gate, where the two of them had been born and raised. When Colette had been recognized as a paladin, she had been wearing specialized armor created for her by Ferrant. Upon seeing it, King Cyrille had immediately asked Ferrant to begin crafting armor and weapons for himself and the paladins. His skill, coupled with his specialized steel, made him invaluable to his majesty.
But his humility and awkwardness made him uncomfortable around people like her, a paladin who was much higher in status than himself.
The combination was adorable and Felicie found herself wanting to tease him more than slightly, just to watch him squirm.
"Makes you want a wife of your own, doesn't it?" Felicie batted her eyelashes at him.
Ferrant blinked down at her, obviously unsure of what to say. His confusion only made her smile widen as she took a sip of her wine.
"Er, oh!" He put a quick smile on his face. "I got your message about the ballista design you made. I would be happy to help you with its construction, if you'd allow me."
"Excellent!" She beamed more genuinely. "I'll be glad to have you. It's not too much work for you though, is it? I know you're busy arming the others and everything."
"I'm almost done with that, actually. Sybille's sword is nearly finished and I've already put the finishing touches on your bow. You can come pick it up anytime."
"Perfect. I'll get it tomorrow and we can talk about the ballista while I'm there. You're quite the inventor, you know. I'm impressed with you."
"You're not too bad yourself. Your plans were rather ingenious."
"I'm glad you liked them." Felicie purred, turning and rubbing herself against him.
The movement was obviously flirtatious and Ferrant paused in surprise.
"Er, my lady-"
"You can call me Felicie, Ferrant. We're friends, aren't we?"
"Er..."
She could see his need to be polite and humble with the upper class warring with his need to be friendly and accommodating in his eyes. She wanted to squeal in delight. Ferrant was absolutely adorable and teasing him was such fun.
"Ferrant!"
A bright call turned both of their heads as Colette, leading Nicolas by the hand, rushed their way. She was beaming brightly as she finally released her new husband to give her old friend a large hug. Nicolas still had to follow her, their hands bound together by the marriage chain. Felicie was quick to step away.
"Thank you so much for coming." Colette said, stepping back from him, still holding onto his arms. "You look good. Is this a new coat?"
"Is it too much?"
"Just right." She grinned, straightening the hem before stepping back into Nicolas' arms.
"Ferrant." He nodded his head at him.
"Nicolas. You're not tired of her yet?"
"Nope, and you're never getting her back."
Grinning at their friendly smiles, Felicie was surreptitiously backing away. Ferrant immediately looked more comfortable to be speaking to the two of them. She didn't think she would get away with her teasing if Colette was watching.
Besides, there was so many more people to speak to at the party. She let her eyes roam over them as she walked through, setting aside her now empty glass onto a passing tray.
Hearing her name brought her to a halt about halfway through the room. She stopped and turned as Manon came walking towards her through the partygoers.
"There you are." Manon smiled at her. "Papa was looking for you."
"Where is he?"
"This way." Manon indicated with her head as she turned to lead.
Princess Manon was not yet an adult, but she was going to be hitting that age shortly. Felicie had known her for years, and while they weren't particularly close, Felicie knew that Manon had changed a great deal since Nina had been placed in charge of her education.
The head paladin, as part of her duties, took care of the prince and princess. The prince was a model of obedience and responsibility. The princess, not so much.
However, since Nina had taken over her teaching, Manon had started to become something of a respectable lady. There was a definite air of grace and poise when she walked, smiling at people with a friendly grin as she passed around them.
"Papa." Manon called out, stepping towards the king.
Cyrille turned as she approached. "Ah, Felicie, there you are! Thank you, Manon."
"You're welcome. Did you need anything else?"
"No, no. Go dance, enjoy the party. I want to see how much your dance instructor has taught you."
Manon laughed as she leaned up to kiss her father's cheek. He was smiling at her back as she walked back into the crowd.
"I never thought I'd live to see the day." He murmured dreamily, watching as his daughter was approached by a respectable young lord. She didn't immediately banish him and instead took him up on his offer to dance with a smile.
"She's grown quite a lot over the winter." Felicie agreed, nodding. "Did you call me over to brag about your daughter, your majesty?"
He chuckled. "Not at all. Why were you late, Felicie?"
"Perfection takes time." She cooed, tossing her curls. "Do you see this hair? This dress? Do you think these things just fall on me?"
Cyrille laughed, his head falling back at her aristocratic tone. "Then, allow me to compliment you on the success of your mission. At the cost of time."
Felicie grinned, shrugging without concern.
"Well, you made it anyway, that's what's important." He held out his arm for her and she took it without question as he turned. "I wanted to introduce you to the ambassador from Lloegyr. Sybille tells me that you met him already."
"I did, when I was in Lloegyr this winter. I didn't think that he would be coming to visit so soon."
"What's he like?"
She shrugged. "He seems like a rather ordinary young lord. Kind, charming, open to my flirtation."
"What man wouldn't be with perfection smiling at them?" Cyrille laughed. "Well, I'm glad that you're in the city now to meet with him. I think it would be better if there was someone around that he knew to be friends with."
"I don't mind, but I thought I was going back to the front lines to replace Lea." Felicie frowned in confusion. It was Colette's job to man the front lines of the war. In order to allow her the time to marry and settle in with her new husband, the other paladins were taking their turns at command instead.
"I've sent Elaine to replace her. She'll hold the defense until Colette can return. I want you to remain here as a friend to Lord Shiloh."
"Cy. He prefers to be called Cy."
Cyrille beamed. "See? You're already proving useful." His smile faded into a tense frown. "I've forgiven Elaine for what she did, but, I won't lie, my relationship with Eleonore has been strained since the incident with her and Blue Bird. She's quite miffed that one of my paladins went rogue in her country. Not that I blame her, but the incident was resolved without harm."
"Lloegyrians do appreciate politeness and rules over everything. She's probably not all that happy that Elaine escaped without punishment."
Cyrille nodded. "That's why making amends with her is important. Trade with Lloegyr is vital to our country's survival, especially during this war. She has declared herself neutral to our conflict and I respect that, but I can't lose her as a trade partner. That's why I need you."
"Oh?" Felicie smiled. "You want me to charm the ambassador?"
"You are perfection." Cyrille smirked, hand tightening on her arm. "You are my most secret and dangerous weapon, Felicie. I don't want to use you in this way, but I cannot lose my relationship with Eleonore. You don't have to go to his bed, but make friends with him, hm?"
Felicie laughed. "I don't mind going to his bed. He was rather handsome."
"Felicie."
"Relax, your majesty." Her playful smile relaxed into a more genuine expression. "I would do anything for you. You know that. Make friends? That's too easy of a request to fulfill."
"Thank you." He whispered, turning his eyes up as his serious desperation was replaced with the more familiar friendliness. "Cy! There you are."
At his call, a man that has been speaking with Queen Radelle turned around.
Stylish black hair was set over a classically aristocratic face, with a strong nose and jaw and a pair of dark brown eyes. The features were much harder than those of the Vasconian people, but they made him look quite alluring to Felicie's gaze. The cut and cloth of his expensive Lloegyrian styled waistcoat spoke to money and taste while the ease which he wore them spoke of familiarity. He was certainly nothing like Ferrant hiding in the corner.
In seeing the king approach, a grin pulled across his face. A grin that only widened when he spotted, then recognized, Felicie.
"Is that you, your majesty?" Cy inclined his head with a playful grin. "I'm afraid I've been blinded by radiance, I don't think I can see."
Felicie chuckled, holding out her hand for him to kiss. "Good to meet you again, Cy."
"Ah, Felicie. This pleasure is mine." He pressed his lips against her gloved knuckles, his thumb caressing her palm out of sight before he released her. "I'm sorry that our previous interaction was so rudely interrupted. We didn't have the chance to give each other a proper goodbye."
"Indeed, not. More's the pity." She purred, sultry eyes moving over him.
Cyrille was smiling as he held out Felicie's arm. "Well, since you're such good friends, Cy, would you mind taking Felicie's arm? Not to say that Felicie isn't lovely, but my heart has been captured by the absolute beauty that you're speaking with."
Radelle, at hearing her husband's flattery, grinned even as she rolled her eyes.
"I think that is a fair deal." Cy chuckled. He grinned when Felicie eagerly switched arms, taking Cy's so that Cyrille could hold onto Radelle instead.
"Ah..." He sighed, tucking his wife's hand into his elbow. "Much better. I've missed you, my love."
"Cyrille, what did you do?" Radelle, her tone flat.
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"You're being far too complimentary. You must have done something wrong."
Cyrille gasped, as though scandalized. "Can I not just compliment my lovely wife?"
"You can. You usually only do it when you've done something wrong."
Felicie giggled as Cyrille pouted, turning her eyes onto Cy.
"I'm sorry that I missed meeting you earlier." She said, leaning into him. "I was a bit late."
Cy laughed. "Indeed. I saw you coming in. Did you have trouble getting here?"
"Not at all. I live in the Royal Complex. The Paladin's Suite is right across the way."
"Oh? Then, what took you so long, if it's not too forward of me to ask?"
"I couldn't decide on my lip paint." She grinned, watching as his eyes were automatically drawn down to her mouth. "What do you think? Too pink?"
"Ah, what a question," he murmured, his voice low and growling.
Felicie's grin widened. "You like it?"
Cyrille cleared his throat deliberately, reminding them that they weren't alone. Cy chuckled sheepishly as Felicie's grin turned decidedly wicked.
"I'm sorry that you arrived today." Cyrille said, deliberately turning the conversation back towards safer territory. "I couldn't possibly miss this wedding. Colette is the first of the paladins to marry, and Nicolas is one of my dearest friends."
"I completely understand." Cy inclined his head. "It would be quite rude to miss a friend's wedding. I'm honored that you allowed me to attend."
"A party is more fun with more people." Cyrille beamed at his wife. "Isn't that right?"
"Indeed." Radelle nodded, her tone and expression far more fitting to royalty. "Of course, we'll have a proper meeting first thing tomorrow."
"I would appreciate it." Cy inclined his head to her. His tone changed when he spoke to her, his face becoming more serious. As though he knew that the queen wasn't the same sort as Cyrille and that she demanded more respect.
"Until then," Cyrille added, "I've asked Felicie to show you around and be your point of contact within Gwenael. I know it can be difficult in a new place by yourself. Felicie is native to Gwenael and she's one of the best paladin's I have."
"I'm grateful then, your majesty." Cy nodded his head. "I'll be sure to ask her if there's anything that I need during my stay."
"Anything at all." Felicie promised, her hand surreptitiously stroking along his arm.
His eyes flashed as he looked down at her and she grinned into his gaze.
Cyrille coughed, once again catching their attention. He gave them both a bright smile. "Well, that's settled then."
"Oh." Cy seemed to come back to himself. "But, aren't paladins invaluable to your military? I know that you're in a war, I would hate to take her away from the effort if she's needed there."
"Don't worry about that." Felicie assured him. "I have plenty of sister paladins out there to fight for us. We can't all be on the front lines at one time. Besides, I'm not much of a front line fighter myself. I'm better working behind the lines."
Cy nodded. "If you insist, my lady."
"I'm happy that Eleonore has sent you." Radelle spoke up, taking a glass of wine as it passed by on a silver tray. "It's our hope to reestablish our good relations after that debacle last winter."
"Of course." Cy's expression turned more serious again. "That is what we want as well. Er, how is Lady Elaine, if I may ask?"
"She's doing well." Cyrille assured him. "The misunderstandings have all been cleared up, and she has proven her loyalty to us."
"If you don't mind my asking, may I know what it is that she said to you that persuaded you to forgive her so easily?" Cy's soft expression was belied by his hard question. "If I have my facts correct, she turned traitor to join a pirate ship captained by her father."
"That was just a ruse." Felicie assured him quickly.
"A ruse?"
"Elaine was ingratiating herself, using her blood ties to him to absolve herself of suspicion, so that she could get close to him and get information. It was espionage, not treason. There's a subtle distinction between the two."
"A rather tight line to walk." Cy's voice was more than slightly suspicious.
"Yet, there's a clear difference between them." Felicie's smile widened. "What she did provided us with invaluable information."
"And what information is that?"
"Later." Radelle cut in, her voice hard. "This is a wedding."
Cy cleared his throat. "Of course. You're right. This is hardly the time or place for such things. We can speak of this tomorrow."
Radelle's expression softened. "Thank you for understanding."
"No, forgive me for bringing it up now. This is a happy occasion. Marriages are such wonderful things, don't you think?"
The question was directed at Felicie and she gave him a warm smile.
"It's so romantic." She sighed dreamily, resting her head down against his shoulder. "The vows, the love, the trust. It's all so beautiful."
"You think so, too?" He grinned. "I like to imagine what kind of woman is going to stand beside me that day. Lloegyrian ceremonies are different, but I think that the general spirit of the union is the same."
"Oh? Different in what way?"
"Our ceremonies focus on the binding of souls." He said, voice growling through the words.
"Mm..." Felicie purred, leaning in closer to him.
Binding of souls? What ridiculousness was that? Well, the Lloegyrian people were strange to her as a whole, so she wasn't that surprised.
"Well, we hope to expose you to much of our culture." Radelle assured him, breaking their gaze from one another again. "How long are you planning on staying?"
"As long as I'm needed. My role as an ambassador is the only one that I fulfill. I know that my queen is just as eager to return the relationship between our kingdoms back to what it was just as much as you are, and I will facilitate that as much as I am able."
"You're still doing trade with Gascony though, aren't you?" Radelle's question was soft and free of inflection but was no less probing for that fact.
Cy only smiled. "It's our position that we will remain neutral in your war. We are friends with Gascony as much as we are with Vasconia. I hope you understand."
"And, we do." Cyrille assured him. "To be perfectly honest, I don't want to be in this war now either. Gascony is the one that brings their soldiers against us."
"I never found out why." Though it was a statement, the words were clearly a question.
"Later." Radelle cut in again. "Remember your surroundings."
"Yes. Of course." Cy nodded his head. "A beautiful ceremony like this deserves only beautiful conversations. Wouldn't you say, Felicie?"
"I couldn't agree more." She nodded. "Have you had a chance to sample our food yet, Cy?"
"As a matter of fact, I haven't. I had some tea and these lovely little sandwiches when I arrived, but nothing like what I see here." His eyes moved around to the servants that continued to circle around the room, offering a variety of small treats and morsels up for enjoyment to the guests to nibble on as they mingled and danced around the hall.
"Well, then let me escort you." Felicie chuckled. "Your majesties, if we may be excused?"
"Please, enjoy yourselves." Cyrille gestured around. "If you need anything Cy, don't hesitate to let Felicie know. She's quite accommodating."
"I will. Thank you, your majesty." Cy nodded to him as he turned with Felicie still on his arm.
Together, the two of them walked into the hall. Felicie could see that Ferrant was, once again, by himself, standing awkwardly in the corner. She found herself wishing that she could go tease him again instead. He looked so sweet, standing off so uncomfortably.
At least, he could offer better conversation. Felicie would much rather be speaking of weaponry and their creation than pretending that she cared about the romance of a wedding.
Still, Cyrille had given the order and, if there was one thing that Felicie held holy above all others, it was her duty as a paladin. Whether that involved fighting in war, assassinating someone from afar, or befriending a man she didn't care for, she would obey.
"Do you dance in Lloegyr, Cy?" She asked him, cozying up along his side.
"As a matter of fact, we do." He gave her a smile. "I don't suppose that you would mind being my partner for the evening?"
"I would be honored."
Felicie laughed with him as he pulled her out towards the center of the hall where the other guests had gathered, dancing quickly around to the bright strings of the sextet that echoed brightly from above in the acoustic balcony.
Vasconia was very similar to Gascony, having originally been founded by people that traveled down across the barrier mountains through Gascony. However, the people of Lloegyr came from the west and had a completely different culture, which included their dancing styles.
However, in anticipation of coming to Vasconia as an ambassador, Cy had made sure to study up on things that he might need, including dancing.
Felicie's eyes widened in surprise when he began moving with her across the hall, twirling her with an expert hand and a satisfied grin.
"You surprise me, Cy." She laughed, her skirt kicking up as he spun her around.
"I'm glad that you approve. I put a great deal of effort into studying."
"Did you bring a dance instructor all the way into Lloegyr just to teach you?"
"As a matter of fact, I did." He chuckled. "I enjoy learning about foreign cultures. It's quite exciting, don't you think, how very different we are?"
"It's very interesting. Lloegyrian culture in particular, is quite lovely. I enjoyed the time I spent in your country before."
"You should see it when it's not so cold. We usually have lovely flowers in bloom, especially in late spring. I think that a beauty such as you would look just perfect surrounded by the fields of delicately pink blooms. They would match your lip paint perfectly, I think."
Felicie chuckled. "Oh, then you do like it?"
"A perfect shade for your skin tone. You're a woman of fashion, then?"
"Quite. I wasn't able to dress as I usually do on Odie's ship last winter. I'm afraid that the importance of the mission limited my wardrobe considerably."
"Naturally. Perfectly understandable."
"I hope to impress you with something more suitable while you're here." She purred, pressing herself against his chest when he brought her in closer again.
Cy's grin turned into a smirk. "You're a rather forward woman."
"Does that bother you?"
"To my own surprise, it does not." He chuckled. "I appreciate the honesty."
Felicie laughed, and it wasn't even an act. The idea of someone accusing her of honesty was genuinely funny and the bright laughter followed her as he lifted her by the waist, into the air.
When she came down again, her hands trailing down his arms to take his hands, she continued speaking.
"You seem to be a man of fashion yourself." Her fingers caught on the large rings gleaming on his fingers, touching the soft silk of his white dress shirt peeking out from under his coat sleeve. "I love the pattern on your kerchief."
"Traditional Lloegyrian pattern." He assured her, grinning. "I admit, I dabble a bit in fashion myself. I find such things to be a particular weakness of mine."
"Who can blame you? The colors? The fabrics? Isn't it marvelous?"
"Indeed. Who does your designs?"
The question launched them into a discussion about their favorite designers, focusing on hers since they would be working here in the city. He asked if they did men's designs and where he could find someone who did men's designs.
Felicie threw herself into the banal conversation with all apparent enthusiasm. Who made what she was wearing, where she bought her various accessories and paints, was all information that she had immediately at the ready to provide. Usually, it wasn't a male that she held this conversation with, but he took to it with all the eagerness that any of the ladies who tried to emulate her style would have and seemed genuinely interested in her decision making process for what she would be wearing and how she matched her colors.
She turned the conversation around on him, asking similar questions and getting a complete rundown on how he had chosen between his blue overcoat and the burnt amber one that he was currently sporting, with the added complication of which boots would look best with the trousers.
Felicie paid careful attention, recalling small details and asking specific questions with reverent interest on her face as she did her best to avoid yawning.
Shiloh Cy-Ithai was indeed a handsome man, and charming enough she supposed. She didn't have to fight for her turn to talk and he paid attention when she spoke. But this was easily the most boring conversation she had ever shared with someone. Even when talking with girls about this, she didn't have to engage in a debate in the best way to part their hair.
Still, he was polite and, by all signs, interested in their topic, so she continued with it, letting the discussion flow naturally as they finished their dance and stepped off the floor together.
"I must say, Felicie," he was saying as he grabbed them both glasses of wine from a passing tray. "You are not at all what I imagined a paladin would be."
"Oh? In what way?" She took the glass with a smile of thanks, her fingers curling around the stem as she gave him a flirtatious look through her lashes.
"I thought you all to be militaristic. You are every inch a proper lady."
"We're all different." Felicie assured him, laughing softly. "Although, I'm nowhere near the lady that Sybille is. Have you met her?"
"I had the pleasure earlier. She was... rather distant." He frowned, trying to be polite in his description.
Felicie chuckled, wrapping her arm through his as the two of them walked through the hall with no particular destination in mind. "Well, she is of the Alard house, one of the oldest, if not the oldest, house in Vasconia. Very old, very wealthy, and very regal."
"Indeed?" Cy nodded. "Well, she was quite dignified."
"She's dour and boring." Felicie said, when it became obvious that he wanted to, laughing at his struggle to maintain civility.
Cy, a native Lloegyrian and therefore obsessed with politeness, shifted uncomfortably as he tried to find some other way to say the same thing.
"She is... focused on her job beyond such trivialities as a party."
Felicie laughed at his careful words, leaning into him as they stopped in front of one of the long windows on the far wall that gazed out over the cascading plates of the city.
"Gwenael is certainly a marvel." Cy breathed in admiration, looking across the land.
Felicie hummed in agreement, swirling the wine around absentmindedly. She would have to agree with the assessment, even after living in Gwenael for the entirety of her life.
Gwenael was a city built over a mountain and held off of the ground by pylons that supported the massive plates that made up the nine upper districts of the city. Two rings separated into four inner and four outer districts surrounded the Royal Complex that stood over all of them.
"What districts are those?" Cy asked, gesturing to them.
"The Magnesium District is the lower one. The closer one is the Pleasure District."
"Pleasure District?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Felicie chuckled. "More formally called the Carbon District, but no one actually uses its real name. It's where you find things like theater houses, spas, the red light district."
Cy cleared his throat. "Prostitution is legal in Gwenael?"
"Only in carefully controlled brothels. Sometimes, people need love, and they're willing to pay for it. It's not so very wrong." Felicie shrugged. "Does that offend you?"
He shook his head. "No. Your ways are your own, I can say nothing against them."
"I'm certain you won't have any need of that part of the district, but you would likely appreciate the arts and massages that you can get there. I'll take you on a tour myself."
"I'm sure I will enjoy that, thank you."
She smiled, nodding. "The Magnesium district is where you'll find things like the universities and guild halls. It's more of an education center. Each district has their own purpose. It won't take you long to learn them, and I'll be more than happy to direct you around."
"It will have to wait until after tomorrow, I'm afraid." He made a regretful face. "I'm going to be spending the day with their majesties going over official business."
"Work must come first. I understand."
His smile widened. "Thank you for that. I will, however, make sure to leave an open spot in my schedule for you to give me a grand tour of Gwenael."
"I'm looking forward to it." Felicie smiled.
Inwardly, she groaned as she began to mentally compose the next outfit she was going to have to wear around him. He was clearly interested in fashion, so it would have to be a focus of hers to make sure that they connected over the shared interest.
Despite how boring she found their conversations - which never really became more interesting than their discussion of fashion - she stayed with Cy for the rest of the night as his majesty requested. He was polite and charming and listened well, which were all positive things. He simply had nothing worthwhile to say which, in and of itself was no crime.
It did make him unforgivably dull.
She was already looking forward to tomorrow when she would get to spend her time teasing Ferrant over weaponry instead.
The smithies of the city were all congregated in the Steel District. The smithy that Ferrant worked in was small, out of the way, and, before Ferrant began working there, had been rundown and nearly put out of business. The owner was elderly and had no one to take up the hammer as he grew too weak to use it and only his stubbornness prevented him from selling the shop.
Despite the fact that the smithy armored the royal family and paladins, it was rather difficult to find and required traveling through a maze like series of back alleys to reach the door. The royal seal beside the open entry declared it a supplier for the castle, but very few people ever came back this way to see the shiny, out of place badge. Only word of mouth prompted in customers, making it a hidden jewel in the Steel District.
Felicie didn't have cause to come here often and found herself getting lost twice on her way to finding the entrance. It was only asking around for the building that finally managed to successfully lead her to the open entrance, from which the heat of the forge was pouring out.
Ferrant was immediately visible inside, standing at the workbench as he sharpened a small dagger while his eyes moved over the plans for the ballista she had sent to him.
Knocking against the stone frame, Felicie called out, "Ferra-a-ant!"
He turned, hands still moving as he stepped back. "You find the place okay?"
"Not hardly. Put up signposts. No one is ever going to find this place without help."
"I like the obscurity." Ferrant shrugged, setting the dagger aside.
"Who's that for?"
"Lea. She wanted me to make her a full set of weapons alongside the standard sword. I want to have them ready for when she returns from the front."
"I like the red theme." Felicie admired, picking it up and running her finger along the rather pretty hilt that reminded her almost of fire with all the gold and rubies.
Ferrant was a blacksmith, but he was also an artist. His creations had the benefit of being not only deadly but functionally beautiful. His dirty hands and bare arms, so completely different from the nice outfit he wore yesterday, were in complete contrast with his lovely creation.
"Your bow is over here." He said, wiping his hands off of his apron as he directed her towards the storage drawers along the far wall, placed well away from the fire of the forge.
From one of the higher middle drawers, he reached into the white velvet lined space and pulled out her large recurve bow. Felicie gasped in delight, reaching for her baby.
"She's beautiful! Ferrant, what did you do to her?!" Felicie's eyes sparkled as they moved up and down the massive wooden weapon.
Felicie could use a sword like the other paladins, but it wasn't her primary weapon. She was a sharpshooter and did her best work striking from afar. That manifested in her skill with the enormous recurve bow that most couldn't even pull.
Soeur was the first weapon that Felicie had ever made. Most recurve bows were smaller than a standard bow and Felicie had been disappointed with the distance she was able to get through them. So, she had crafted her own. Ferrant was the first person that she had ever allowed to touch Soeur, and she had only given in when he promised to only implement cosmetic changes.
Soeur had been simple and purely functional, which suited Felicie fine. Despite her dedication to her apparent love of fashion, she wasn't actually that good at decoration or crafting. Anyone who saw her with her bow would often be surprised by how utilitarian it was.
Her decision to allow Ferrant to make her pretty came about from that surprise. If she was going to play the part of someone in love with pretty things, then it made sense that her bow be pretty. After seeing Ferrant's hand with swords and armor, he was the only one she would trust to make alterations to Soeur without compromising her strength.
He hadn't carved directly into the wood of the bow. Instead, he had formed metal bangles that he wrapped around the body with infinite care to ensure that they fit snugly without cutting into the wood or disturbing the natural curve that she took either when unstrung or pulled taught. The bangles themselves were the most delicate of rose gold, inlaid with diamond chips and shimmering pink gemstones that Felicie didn't immediately recognize on sight.
"They come off if you ever need to do any stealth shooting." Ferrant told her, watching as she turned Soeur around to admire her from every angle. "I still have the molds, so I can make you more of them as well."
"You mean my bow can match all my outfits?!" Felicie gasped in delight. "Oh, Ferrant! This is the best present ever!"
He chuckled. "It's hardly a present if I'm getting paid for it."
Felicie just continued to beam as she lovingly ran her hands over the bow's jewelry. "I might have you take a look at my gun as well."
"I don't mind. I'm not really familiar with the weapon though."
"It's rather simple, actually. I'll show you how it works later." Felicie looked up. "Do you have a string so I can string her?"
"Yeah." He reached back into the drawer and came back with the coiled line.
Felicie squealed in delight and immediately set to work pulling the bow back around the string. Even that in and of itself was a feat of strength most couldn't match. Ferrant watched her do it with an impassive look on his face, hands on his hips.
Just to test to make sure the bangles wouldn't disturb the bow, she gave it a test pull, her shoulders and arms rolling together like a well oiled machine as she looked down the line of her arm as though she might really be aiming for something.
The bangles certainly added weight on the end, but it was only noticeable because Felicie was so intimately familiar with Soeur's body. It wasn't anything that threatened to make it more difficult to shoot or likely to throw off her aim.
Slowly releasing the bow, Felicie let out a long breath of relief.
"Thank you, Ferrant. Not going to lie, I was a bit nervous, but you really are worthy of your position. It's absolutely perfect. And interchangeable as well! You think of everything."
"I'm only glad that you like it." He assured her. "Since you're here, do you mind if I get your measurements? Once I'm done with Lea's swords, I'll finally be able to start working on all the armor that his majesty wants me to make for you."
"Oh, Ferrant," Felicie fluttered her lashes playfully, "there are much easier ways to ask if you can put your hands on me."
He sputtered, nearly tripping as he walked back to his workbench. He whipped around back to her, face bright red. "That is not what I meant!"
Felicie's bell like laughter was hardly relaxing as she set Soeur down. "I'm joking. Joking! Yes, you may take my measurements, Ferrant."
He blew out a breath, reaching for the measuring tape that he had coiled and placed on one of the high shelves, out of reach of any stray sparks or metal fragments.
"You're worse than Colette," he mumbled to himself.
Felicie just continued to smile as he turned back to her. He hesitated then, staring at the position she had adopted to face him. Hands held behind her back, hip cocked, breasts presented. It wasn't overtly flirtatious, but it was obviously sensual and she got more than a great deal of pleasure watching the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed convulsively.
Despite all the attempts she made at moving her body with seductively languid motions as he moved around her, he kept up his professionalism. However, his ears were burning as he fought to keep himself under control.
Then, just to see what he would do, when he wrapped the tape around her torso - from behind so he hands didn't actually touch her breasts - she fell back against him when he pulled it tight.
"Whoops!" She said, pleased when his strong arms caught her automatically.
"Sorry," he mumbled, pushing her back up. "I don't know my own strength sometimes."
Felicie chuckled. Strong, cute, dependable, and a great deal of fun to tease. She wasn't the type of girl to get swept up in romance or love, but she could easily see herself losing a few enjoyable nights with Ferrant's company.
She wondered if Colette would mind very much if she approached her friend in such a way. She didn't think the girl would have cause to be concerned, especially since Ferrant was a grown man and was obviously not unaffected by her, but it seemed to her the sort of thing she should probably make sure was okay with her sister paladin first.
Not that she planned on hurting Ferrant, but if Colette was against her starting a casual sort of relationship with him, then she would respect that.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice when Ferrant gave her a quick look as he fitted the tape around her waist.
"It was a nice party yesterday." He said, his voice devoid of anything but the simple statement of the comment.
"It was rather nice, wasn't it?" Felicie grinned. "I still remember the first day you and Colette came into the city, and now she's off getting married and leading a war."
"Are you getting emotional?" Ferrant asked, stepping back in surprise.
She chuckled, turning as he dropped the tape back onto the bench and began writing down the numbers he had collected.
"It's appropriate to the occasion, isn't it?"
"I guess I didn't expect you to be the type to get emotional, is all." Ferrant lifted his eyes from the paper and shrugged at her look. "I mean, it's something that I was emotionally invested in, but I didn't expect that from you."
"Are you saying I'm unemotional?" Felicie gasped, grinning.
"Aren't you?"
The simple question gave her pause and she found her smile becoming more genuine as she leaned over Ferrant's arm, resting her hand and head on his shoulder.
"Aren't you the clever one?"
"I don't know about that." He eyed her carefully. "What are you doing?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Her fingers moved up his forearm, admiring the muscles that were so densely packed within the long limb.
"Er, Lady Felicie-"
"You don't have to be so formal with me."
"No, I really think that I do."
Chuckling, she wrapped her arms around his neck, stepping deliberately in front of him and pulling him down so that he was forced to pin her down against the workbench. He blinked at the sudden change in position. Though, he didn't try to pull away.
"You're cute, Ferrant, you know that?" Felicie laughed, cozying herself up against him.
"I... don't think this is the right position for-"
"Don't be so uptight. We're both adults. As long as we're not flagrant about our dalliances, who cares if we're having them?"
The look that he fixed her with was surprisingly stern.
"Felicie, I am not going to have a brief and meaningless dalliance with you. If that's all that you want from me, please, let me go."
Felicie made a pouting face. "Don't you find me attractive, Ferrant?"
"I do." He nodded once, reaching up to unlock her arms. "I also find you to be a lady deserving of something more than affairs."
He stood, releasing himself from her. She stood strait, grinning once again.
"You're so principled. I rather like that."
He gave her a dull look. "Don't attack me again."
Laughing, Felicie held up her hands innocently. "I've learned my lesson."
"Besides, if you were going to be propositioning me, why were you dangling off of the ambassador's arm all night?"
"Hm?" Surprised by the question, Felicie took a moment to answer. "Ferrant, don't tell me that you're jealous of Cy."
"I'm only trying to determine what you're doing here and why. I don't want an affair, I don't want to be meaningless or frivolous. I'm a rather more grounded sort of man, Felicie. If I'm in a relationship with a woman, I want it to be a serious one."
"Oh, dear." Felicie sighed, wrapping her arms around her midriff. "There's nothing there that I can tease. Authenticity is my weakness."
Ferrant chuckled at her, straightening his apron. "As long as we're understanding. Not to say that I don't find you appealing, but..."
Felicie grinned, straightening up. She put her arm through his, leaning in to whisper.
"Just in case you're curious, since you're not jealous, I'm only being friendly with Cy because his majesty has asked me to do so."
"His majesty?" Ferrant looked surprised.
Felicie nodded. "Cy is an ambassador trying to ease the strain between us and Lloegyr. I met him there last winter, and his majesty wants me to stay close to him and make him feel welcome here so that he can pass along good messages to Queen Eleonore."
"Oh." Ferrant looked surprised. "I... would never have thought of that."
"Of course, not. You're an honest type. People like you don't think to use others for selfish purposes. It's rather cute."
He gave her a look. "I can't tell if you're flirting with me or if you're doing that thing of yours."
"What thing?"
"That thing." He gestured to her face. "Where you act like you're a certain way but you're not. Is there a word for that?"
Felicie covered any surprise she felt quickly. "And what gives you the idea that I'm that sort?"
"Colette told me that it's strange looking at you, and you know that she can see lies. Which tells me that maybe you're not overtly lying, but you're definitely not being truthful. A false smile is, in its own way, a type of lie."
Felicie bit into her lip, pulling back from him. "You're far too honest, Ferrant."
"And you're not honest enough."
She shook her head. "Never mind. As it happens, any interest I might have had in Cy is far gone. The man is the most insipid conversationalist. I don't think we discussed a single of thing of even marginal import last night. It was mostly fabric preferences and hair styles."
"I thought you like those things."
"And I thought you knew I was a liar." Felicie laughed delightedly. "Well, it's fine. He's polite and he's easy to talk to. That should make him a good enough friend at least. I'm going to be spending a fair amount of time with him while he's not working."
Ferrant nodded. "I understand. Then, I'll begin making the pieces for the ballista on my own, and we can meet up later to assemble and test them."
She giggled. "You're so romantic, Ferrant."
"I thought you weren't really interested in me."
"I said that I can't assault authenticity. That doesn't mean I won't give you the chance to capture my heart, as elusive as it is."
Ferrant raised a curious brow and she grinned with a shrug.
"Just a thought?"
"Then, how about a date?"
"A date?" Her eyes sparkled in delight. "I'd love one! Where to?"
"There's a play on in the Pleasure District that I've heard is quite funny." Ferrant's expression relaxed into a smile himself. "You're rather easy to talk to despite being a lady, you know."
"Well, I wasn't always a lady. And I'm only a lady by virtue of my power." She wiggled her fingers at him happily. "I'd love to go with you to a play. Then, afterwards, we can work together on the ballista a bit. Doesn't that sound fun?"
"Actually, it does." He chuckled at the absurdity of it. "I quite enjoy my line of work, especially when I'm given a challenge."
"Good, because I love inventing things and find I don't always have enough time to do it. This is the start of a beautiful relationship between us, Ferrant. Don't you agree." She held out her hand for him to shake, once again genuinely smiling.
There was a difference, Ferrant noted. Her false, regular smile was bright and radiant, certainly. The real one, however, was softer, calmer, less forced. It relaxed something in her face and he found that the softer face was far more attractive.
"I do indeed agree." He said, shaking her hand.
Felicie grinned. "Then, I'll see you soon. Not tomorrow, I'm afraid. I've already promised to take Cy around the city tomorrow, and I imagine that will take some time."
"The day after then?" He crossed his arms, leaning back on his bench beside her.
"I'm looking forward to it." She smiled, nudging him. "Even if it's going to be hard to tease your authenticity."
He smirked. "I grew up with Colette. Do your worst."
"Don't tempt me." Beaming, she jumped upright and turned with a happy bounce, snatching her bow back up. "Well, then, thank you for your good work regarding Soeur."
He nodded once. "I'm glad you approve. Look forward to your armor."
"Oh, I shall. Bye, Ferrant."
Humming to herself, she skipped out of the door and began walking back down the tight alley streets towards the main road. Ferrant's smithy really was far out of the way. She didn't understand why he kept working for the old man in his tiny spot. If he were to move to one of the larger smithies, he would get far more customers.
Well, she supposed that wasn't her-
A tingling at the back of her neck brought her up short and she whipped around, stopping in place to look behind her.
There was no one there.
But she had felt a pair of eyes on her. She had heard something. Her ears hadn't been able to distinguish it clearly enough to recognize the sound, which, in and of itself, was already suspicious.
She scanned the alley, waiting for some sign of the watcher to make a move, but a full minute ticked by and nothing happened.
Frowning, she slipped her head through Soeur, letting it tighten around her torso before she reached into her skirt. Her hand tightened around the dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her dress as she slowly turned back and began walking. Her footsteps were as soft as her boots were possible to be against the stone. She moved forward, but the entirety of her attention was focused back behind her.
Another sound. Soft and deliberately muted. Her jaw tightened because that sense of being watched was only growing stronger.
A heavy step made her whip about once more.
Yet again, there was nothing there. No matter how long she scanned the area, checking the near roofs and windows for any sign of prying eyes, her careful eyes couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.
Without any arrows, the dagger she had hidden - small but sharp - was the only method of attack that she possessed. She wasn't particularly worried about the average mugger that might be patrolling the dark and mostly empty alleys.
However, they were in the middle of a war and, even if the enemy had yet to progress this far, the danger of spies and assassins was always very real.
Resolving to hunt down whoever was watching her instead of returning, she began to step backwards-
-when she heard her name called from the main street.
"Lady Felicie!"
She turned back, dropping the dagger back into her skirt. It had been a child's voice. She frowned, beginning to walk back, wondering why a child would be calling for her.
The question was answered when, from around the corner, a young girl wearing a messenger's uniform came running into view. She was panting from her journey but, when she caught sight of Felicie, she got a renewed burst of energy to sprint her way.
The sight of the child made Felicie's heart sink. There was only one reason that a messenger would come seeking her out this way.
In the girl's hand, a slip of scarlet paper announced the arrival of a message of such import that it was to be delivered immediately, regardless of time or location.
And there was only one person who would send her a scarlet message.