Lady of Violets

Written by Becki

(C) Nintendo and Intelligent Systems

Bleagh.

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Talent.

Tension vibrated in the string, causing her fingers to waver. The arrow threatened to slip out of her grasp before she could aim properly. Lavender eyes searched the target set just a bow-range away, as nimble, deft fingers tightened against the bow's frame.

In a second, the fingers released the grip around the arrow's shaft. Even before the arrow hit, it was obvious where it's target was. In the center, a perfect distance all around the round target. A satisfying thud preceded a short, wry smile.

Brushing her blonde hair of pearl-like texture away from her light eyes, she lowered her bow and let out a breath. It was early morning, somewhat chilly but with a promising warmth to come. The dew glistened upon the ground like clear beads on smooth blades of grass. The trees sang in a duet with the whispering wind.

Without a word she slipped her silver bow into the quiver accompanied by long arrows. Pushing her delicately plaited braid over her back, she slipped her shoulder into the strap and tightened her grip. Halting, she closed her eyes and tried to remember it all. The freedom of the outdoors, the bow in her palm. Hardly a talent worth the frail skin of a lady, many had said. but her fingers were hard and had an immunity towards the cold metal of the bow. Other noblewomen may have had delicate skin like silk, white as cream and gentle. But she no longer had blisters on her fingers from the slightest bit of pressure, nor any blemishes from tension.

Before retreating to the indoors, she was taken captive by the beauty of spring's newborn. The buds were already forming on soft vines, and the trees had already taken their share of life. She stopped and noted the violets that were a bit slow this year. The seeds had been planted months ago, but the soft protective green coating covered the buds.

"Louise!" She halted her exploration of the garden and saw a boy a few years her junior approach. He shared a common appearance as she did, pale gold hair and a gentle face. But his eyes were blue, just a shade dark than hers. Raising an eyebrow, she stepped forward, troubled by his tone.

"Aren? What is troubling you?" She said, her voice like a small bird's. Tightening her grip on the strap of her bow, she looked to him, touching his shoulder.

"You have a messenger, and a guest today, Louise. They arrived not an hour ago." Aren said, rubbing his forehead. "Mother told me where you were."

"Is that so? This is rather sudden. Did my aunt seem.. ah.. well, disappointed?" Louise said, off subject, pursing her lips as she looked down at her younger cousin.

"She seemed a bit dry about it. Come on, Louise!" He said with child-like impatience. "She's waiting!" Aren bolted up the marble stairs of the villa and disappeared through the curtains. Sighing, she dropped her quiver in a patch of flowers and followed suit.

While pursuing her cousin, she found that there was no trace of him at all. Turning the corner, she heard her name called again.

"Lady Louise! Here, child." Turning her head with her braid flipping over her shoulder, she directed her attention to a small group of tall, richly dressed people in the corridor.

"Louise!" Her aunt said first, with Aren standing beside her. "Your hands." Louise looked down at her palms and saw them smeared with dirt. Naturally and as lady-like as possible, she clasped them behind her back.

"I beg your pardon, Aunt." She said. "I was outside."

"Indeed. Louise, come meet a relative of yours." Her aunt looked to the young woman standing across from her. A tall woman, indeed she was of the family. The traditional blonde hair and light eyes. Louise studied the mysterious woman's face, and noticed the tightness of her lips, the firm, narrow eyes. Her hair was woven into intricate braids and wound around in a complex design.

"Hello, Louise. Do you remember me?" She said with a voice that had authority. Louise nodded slowly.

"Lady Hellene." She said softly, bowing her head in respect. Her aunt corrected her.

"Queen Hellene, niece."

"What?!" Louise's astonishment was genuine, but she kept herself as composed as possible.

"Have you not heard the news, child?" Her aunt said with some scorn. "It's that mother of yours, filling your head with such tales, leading you to go out like a wild creature."

"That's not true, Aunt." Louise argued politely. "I can sew, I can read and write and I know and practice etiquette. She taught me those things. How could you speak of your sister thus?"

"And you can also shoot." Her aunt said uncomfortably.

"That's enough, Maeve." The queen said quietly. Louise had almost forgotten her surprise. She was about to give a formal apology when the queen smiled a smile directed to her.

"It's been a long time. You were five when I first met you. You are.. thirteen now?"

"Fourteen, your majesty."

"Fourteen." She echoed distantly. "Well, I would be pleased to get to know you. It's late, we'll talk later, how's that, Louise?"

"I'd like that very much." The girl said.

...:.:.:.:.:.:...

"What beautiful hair." The queen breathed as she brushed gentle strokes with the fine-haired brush. Louise stared incredulously back at her reflection, almost unrecognizing the girl who stared back at her. She could scarcely believe the woman who was brushing her hair now was the Queen of Bern.

"...Is it difficult?" Louise said finally, distant.

"What is, Louise?"

"Being Queen. My Aunt tells me that I must be ready to take on the throne of nobility."
"Are you afraid?" The queen said, starting to braid the strands. Louise started to nod but remembered that Hellene was working with her hair.

"Yes." She said, but then said quickly. "But I'm ready. I've learned all I can."

"I see." Queen Hellene said, tying the braid with a lilac ribbon. "Louise, I don't suppose you know why I came.."

"Ah..." Louise turned to look over her shoulder. "There.. was a reason?"

"Louise, you're not longer a girl. You must know you have to make.. decisions."

"But--" The girl frowned slightly. "I.. I don't understand." The queen sat down in an elegantly carved chair and started to unweave her hair.

"You're in your aunt's care, but you are a pure-bred noble. You were destined to rule a powerful house of Bern, perhaps Etruria."

"Etruria?" The thought frightened her. So far from home, across two borders.

"I have received permission from Maeve to let you accompany me to Reglay. See the sights, and perhaps find something that will influence positively your future."

"You mean.." Louise's eyes widened. "Marriage?" The queen was silent, her slender fingers working with her golden locks. "But, you can't mean that, surely... I'm not quite possibly.."

"Old enough?" The queen finished. "Of course marriage can wait, but there is a certain opportunity for you." The last braid was unraveled, and the queen's long hair was bound to waviness from their captivity.

"But, why would an Etrurian Lord ever consider me-" At this point, Hellene laughed lightly. Not scornfully or in a mocking way, it was a laugh someone would give to a naive child.

"Louise, you can't possibly mean that? Look at your face. You have a beauty not many girls your age is blessed with. You have great charm, and I have been told of your intelligence. No doubt you possess great talent." Louise was lost for words, she had not expected such compliments. She felt her face grow warm.

"No need to be modest." Hellene said. The queen looked at the candle, then out the window, at the dark sky. "It is growing late. So, what do you say, Louise? Will you join me?"

Louise felt some unknown feeling well up inside her. It was just the feeling she felt when her mother had passed away. She was afraid of her duty. Reglay, so far away.

"Yes." She said in a mouse's voice.

"Splendid!" Hellene smiled. "We'll leave tomorrow."

...:.:.:.:.:.:...

Etruria. The land favored by Saint Elimine herself. It was such a sophisticated country, financially successful, powerful in numbers. When Louise stepped into Reglay, everything seemed more lively. Hellene often carried polite conversations with her, surprised by the girl's maturity despite the night in which she had confessed her fears.

"The Count of Reglay is a very successful young man. They say his intelligence is yet to be matched. He is even being considered to be the Mage General of Etruria." Queen Hellene said in the carriage ride.

"He's an Anima magic user?"

"Yes, and the best there is, supposedly. He's been pressed to choose a bride, even in his tight security and schedules. Reglay's steward has gathered the highest bred women of Etruria for the lord to consider for his wife."

"Of.. Etruria." Louise repeated. Hellene smiled.

"I have notified them of another maiden, Etrurian she may not be, but she is a lady."

"I see." Was her answer.

...:.:.:.:.:.:...

When they arrived at Castle Reglay, they were not greeted by the Count. The steward had informed them that he was under tight study. He directed them to their corridors, and Louise was awed by the artistry. It was not so much a castle, more like a palace. Everything was decorated down to the smallest detail. She had her own chambers, and was given permission to roam the palace if she wished.

Louise thanked the servants and the steward who dropped her belongings on the bed of her room. After dismissing them, she took notice of the huge mirror that stood in the corner of this massive room. She was dressed in riding clothes, a simple pink-hued blouse frilled at the sleeves and skirt, a magenta traveling cloak tied at her throat. She undid the brooch and took the cape off, folding it on her bed.

Opening her bag, she touched a familiar warm object inside. She breathed softly out.

Her bow somehow got with her belongings. She knew it could be terrible for the reputation of a lady to own a weapon. And how it managed to come all the way to Etruria with her, while she was to be the best lady possible, was some sort of omen.

Closing her bags tight, she felt herself clench her fist. She changed her thoughts to be more optimistic when she decided to explore Castle Reglay. Perhaps they had an even larger garden then she had at home.

Closing the door behind her when she left her room, she followed the corridor down towards the marbled floors of a large ball room. At the top of the stairs there was some sort of throne, grand in it's astonishing simplicity. The servants scurried by with mahogany chairs and silver platters. Louise turned away and followed another hall.

A shrill scale of laughter sounded. She almost flinched, be regained her posture. Three noblewomen-guessing by their dress- came from a door that seemed to come from outside. They were older than Louise, that part was obvious. But all three were lovely, slim-figured and pale skinned.

"Good evening." The girl said politely. The women stopped and examined her apparel. Louise forced herself not to blush, remembering that she was still in her traveling clothes.

"Indeed." The shortest one with black hair said with a nod.

"Are you one of the twenty?" The red-haired one examined her, with a gaze that was similar to an older woman's directed towards a child.

"Twenty?" Louise said, puzzled.

"Of the brides, what else?" The last-the blonde- said. "For the Count."

"Oh." Louise's face fell. There were so many others? "Yes, I-I suppose."

"A bit young." She heard one whisper to another.

"Is the Count really so old?" Louise asked kindly, trying to keep her head raised and confidence high.

"Hm, no, I suppose not. He's.. in his.. sixteenth winter, seventeenth?" The other two nodded in confirmation. Louise felt herself loose heart, and changed the subject abruptly.

"Did you just come from the gardens?" She asked, hopeful.

"Yes. Gorgeous flowers, they were. But I'm not used to the cold at all." The red-haired one said with accent.

"Dreadful." The blond agreed. Louise bit her lip and thanked them hastily, uncomfortable. She excused herself and escaped outside, her braid trailing behind her like a gold ribbon. She wanted nothing to be left alone. Perhaps it was as her Aunt said. It would be better off to be a wild creature, to spread wings and fly away from any troubles.

It was warm outside, and Louise almost laughed. When her eyes met the colors, she almost gasped in delight. The flowers bowed in the wind, the petals vivid in color. The trees were bent and decorated in arches so high, she walked through them gingerly watching in amazement. She saw statues of marble seated with the flowers, a small fountain to maintain irrigation flooding with iridescent light. This was far grander than the garden she had known at home in Bern.

She wandered down stony path, a faint smile traced on her lips. Entering a glade with trees surrounding it, Louise stepped into the speckled shadows where the sunlight filtered through the leaves like a golden dust. Through this fantasy she nearly missed him. The noble girl stopped still.

He had not seen her. He was busily writing on a parchment and occasionally looked down on the book in his lap. An young man--no, he seemed just older than she was-- sat at the bench under the shade of the branches, he was dressed simply, bearing the seal of Reglay on his tunic. A scribe perhaps?

Pale hair that could match the color of the clear sky was tied at the base of his neck, but a few strands wandered their way above a gracefully curving brow. His build wasn't heavy, he had a lithe figure, and he was of average height.

The bench he was seated on was amidst the well maintain bed of violet flowers. She had not uttered a sound, so it surprised her when the youth looked up at her. She stared back at his eyes, watching the irises that were the exact color as hers; a light lavender.

"Good evening." He said kindly. He had the Etrurian accent, but his voice was so pleasant to the ear. Louise nodded and put on her warmest smile.

"I'm sorry to disturb you. The garden is so beautiful." She forgot that her own accent was of Bern's, but was not reminded because the man didn't seem to make note of it.

"No, it's quite all right." He said, slipping his parchment in his book and closing it. Putting it to one side, he grinned lightly. "I've been wanting an excuse to take me away from the writings. Please, sit down." He gestured to the empty spot on the bench. Louise sat down a safe distance away and just nodded, what else was there to say?

Put your charm to the test. Louise thought to herself. How charming would Queen Hellene expect you to be?

"Ah.." Her mind spun with ideas to start a friendly conversation. It was harder to speak to a boy, she had no idea what their interests were. Well, she did converse with Aren, but he was different. The scribe waited patiently. "Do you.. come here often?"

"When they let me." He responded almost too quickly. He looked at her with a strange glance, Louise almost blushed. "Are you.. a visitor?"

"Ah.. well, I guess I would be. Oh! Excuse me, my name is Louise."

"Well met." He bowed his head. "My name is Pent."

"It's a pleasure, sir." She said, her voice small.

"So, Lady Louise isn't it? Have you traveled from Bern? I heard that the Queen was coming herself with a relative of hers." He said, his eyes looking deep through the canopies of the trees.

"Y-yes. The Queen and I arrived today." Was it that obvious?

"Hm. Are you ready?"

"For what?" Louise asked, blinking.

"You are a pending bride are you not? The Ladies are required to show their worthiness to the Count, so he has an idea of who he is choosing to wed." He said, but Louise was too shocked to notice the hint of distaste in his voice.

"'Worthiness'?"

"Hm.. like a talent. Show off their nobility skills, their charm. No doubt a plan to capture the heart of the Lord."

"Is he really that attractive?" Louise asked without thinking. "I haven't seen him, but I've only heard positive things about him." Pent raised an eyebrow at her, and Louise thought she must have said something utterly foolish.

"Well.. you must have heard that he was a very studious person. That much is true, he loves his books and magic. He's been ruling for quite a while in his youth, but many don't know what pressure he has."

"I know the feelings." Louise admitted, looking towards the ground, her booted toe fingering the ground. "Everybody expects you to rule perfectly and with grace. All fair and just, the leader everybody adores and looks up too. They don't.. realize how difficult it is. I fear.. that one day I may make such a mistake, relations and lives are always at stake." When she fell silent, so did Pent. He fingered the book at his side with a pensive expression, and she felt better that someone had listened to her. Even if he didn't care about her problems, she felt remarkably better.

"It's getting late." He said, standing up and picking up his book. "Good luck to you, Lady Louise. You better return before you are missed."

"I will." She said, standing up. "Thank you, sir. It was fine talking to you."

"Indeed it was." He looked and sounded completely honest, which made her even more light. And with a sweeping bow, he turned and hurried back towards Castle Reglay.

...:.:.:.:.:.:...

"Lady Louise!" The steward said, watching her with some scorn.

"Oh! Where is her Majesty, the Queen?" She asked, almost frantic. "I've not seen her anywhere."

"She is already in audience with the Count in the great hall. Your presence is needed, the other women have gathered." Louise almost jumped, she scolded herself and bit her lip.

"Thank you! I'll be there shortly." After he closed her door, she reacted quickly. A talent, a way to show her worthiness. She needed something to prove her worthiness as a lady. She went through her bags for something that would cause rapid inspiration. She was no artist, she hardly ever painted or wrote poetry. Her skill with the harp was hardly even mediocre. Besides, how would she get a harp in such a small amount of time?

Magic, the count was interested in it. But she had not laid eyes on a magic tome let alone read one. Besides, girls were trained to heal with magic before fighting with it. But then..

Her eyes traveled to her bow she had taken out in the frantic search. It was her only hope, she couldn't walk in empty handed, that would be a disgrace. Her charm and beauty was not enough to compete against twenty other women. She was not without talent, just in the wrong field.

The door was knocked upon, and a servant sent to escort her called her. Quickly and crestfallen, she snatched up her bow and completely ignored the fact that she did not have any arrows. Silently she prayed that the Lord was a considerate one with liberal ideas about women and weapons.

...:.:.:.:.:.:...

Louise was led to the room, and she stood behind the crowd of ladies and other nobles. She had not time to change, and she realized that she was still in her traveling clothes. No more could have gone wrong.

She heard singing beyond the crowd, a woman's. She was singing a lengthy ballad of some composed poetry, no doubt a 'talent' in display for the count. A lovely singing voice it was too. Smooth and beautiful, not deadly and crude like the bow. She couldn't see the count who was sat upon his throne through the crowd, but neither did she want to look. The group of nobles mumbled softly to one another as the singing went on. The girl was dazed, both frightened and nervous. Blood pounded in her ears, her breath was almost hiccupped.

Finally the singing stopped.

"Is that the last?" She heard a noblewoman speak up.

"Where is Louise?" Queen Hellene's voice rang out, and Louise held her breath and lowered her head, eyes towards the ground.

"I'm here." She said as loudly as she could muster. The crowd of people turned and looked at her. She felt the sharp piercing glances they sent in her direction, critical and judging. She felt lower than ever.

"Come child!" Queen Hellene said. "Lord Pent is waiting for you."

Louise froze.

Slowly, so slowly, she lifted her chin, her eyes quivering, climbing up the throne to the silk boots. And the dark gold-trimmed robe. Her eyes traveled further up towards gentle lavender eyes and a frame of bluish hair.

Stepping forward out of the curious crowd, she made herself in view. She could not bear to see the appalled expression on the Queen's face, or listen to the murmurs of the crowd. She held her bow out in both hands, almost as if she was offering it to the Count.

"My talent.. is with the bow." She said, eyes defiant, voice calm. The Count's face was unchanged. "My dear lord.. if you should choose me.." Her hands tightened around the shaft. "I would protect you until my life's end."

It must have sounded more ridiculous to the audience than it did to her. The room exploded with laughter, scornful mirth that ridiculed her appearance, her naivety and apparent foolishness. Her face felt hot, and she felt ready to break down.

She saw him stand up from the top of her eyes. Louise forced herself to look, to see if he was also amused by her senseless offer.

His light eyes were so compassionate. And he was smiling.

The room was silenced as Pent stepped down and forward, extending his hand to her. Wordlessly, she took one palm away from her bow, and reached.

Pent clasped her hand in his, and they fit perfectly together.

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