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Princess Ovelia was looking out the window again.
Though it wasn't Agrias' place, she worried about the princess' habit of sitting still and watching the outer monastery walls. Princess Ovelia would sit by the window for hours, feet delicately tucked beneath her skirts, hands folded in her lap, never moving an inch. Occasionally her face would betray some expression of interest, eyes widening in surprise or brow wrinkling in concern for a reason only she knew, but for the most part she remained motionless.
It seemed unnatural for anyone, even a proper lady, to be so still. Agrias did not expect the princess to rush about as Agrias had at that age, but she felt perhaps a bit of rushing would be healthy. It would add a flush to her cheeks, a smile to her mouth, a light to her eyes - anything that would make her a living woman and not an intricately-sculpted doll.
But it was not Agrias' place to criticize how the princess spent her time, so she stood patiently by the door in the proper military position for as long as it took for Princess Ovelia to return to herself. Or until the dinner hour, which was the more common occurrence. Agrias would never be so lax as to allow her charge to neglect herself.
But dinner would not be for another four hours, so Agrias locked her knees, focused on the grey stone wall past the window, and waited.
It was a surprise when the princess spoke.
"Agrias...do knights marry?"
"Pardon, my lady?"
Princess Ovelia turned away from the window for the first time since she had sat down. "Do knights marry? I mean, they must, there are noble houses and they must continue, but..." She cast about for words until she asked, bluntly: "Will you marry?"
Agrias didn't know how to answer. She had never really thought about it before. Her brothers were enough to continue the Oaks family name, so all that was required of her was to bring it honor. In time she might be asked to marry to gain land or funds, but that was out of her hands, and therefore she had dismissed thoughts of marriage from her mind. Far more practical to concentrate on the job in front of her than consider a future that may or may not happen.
Was Princess Ovelia worried that Agrias would leave her? It was a natural enough fear for a young woman who had been tossed between different guards for so long. Agrias' predecessor had been removed because of the close ties of her family to Duke Goltana, and it was only the Oaks’ sworn loyalty to the King, and the King alone, that had gained Agrias her position. Despite the precariousness of their positions, she and the princess had found something of a rapport together. It was only to be expected for Princess Ovelia to worry how long Agrias was going to last.
But that did not tell her how to reply, and Agrias realized she had been standing in awkward silence for too long. "I may in the future, but not while I am still required to guard you." There. A nice, reassuring answer.
"You're about the right age, so I wondered...it's fortunate for you." A faint smile passed over Princess Ovelia's features, there and gone like a spring shower before she turned back to the window. "I wonder who I'll be required to marry."
"Well..." The princess was unlikely to have anyone chosen for her until the question of succession had been settled, for good or for ill. Choosing the partner of a potential queen was much different from a mere princess, after all. But it still seemed inexplicably sad that such worries weighed so heavily on Princess Ovelia's mind. There was nothing Agrias could say to reassure her, but still...still she wanted to erase that furrow from the princess' brow, to bring light into those dark eyes. "I am sure the King will choose well, your highness. He cares for you."
"Does he? We never truly acted like siblings... Alma told me of her brothers teaching her magic, or bringing her foreign sweets, or taking her through the woods to catch frogs...but I suppose that's not appropriate for royalty." There was a long pause while Agrias tried to craft a response, but the princess continued first. "It is not such a bad thing. The crown demands sacrifice, and I am happy to provide. It is just..."
"...who would you wed, if you could choose?" The question slipped out before Agrias noticed, and then could not be taken back.
"I had not thought about it in that way..." For some mad reason, Princess Ovelia seemed to be giving the matter actual thought. Her gaze fell to the floor while she spoke, deep in thought. "Not in terms of an actual 'who'. But I think...someone strong and loyal. Someone with a kind and noble heart, who didn't see me just as a political pawn. Someone who cared for me as Ovelia, not as a princess." Agrias' heart was so heavy with sorrow for Princess Ovelia she almost missed the last sentence. "Someone like you, Agrias."
"Princess, I- what?"
The princess pulled back into herself. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate. Please, forget what I said."
"No, I-" Agrias stumbled, at loss for words. Her heart was a lightning storm of confused emotion she could not allow herself to show. It was flattering, to hear the princess speak of her so. It was warming and exhilarating and dangerous, and Agrias had no experience in dealing words instead of blows.
All she knew was that she wanted to stop Princess Ovelia's retreat; so she fell back on her instincts as a knight, instincts that told her to grasp and hold the fleeing hart.
"Princess, I take no offense. None could. To have someone so noble and beautiful say that...anyone would be happy. I simply..." And there Agrias ran out of decent words. "I humbly accept the honor you have bestowed upon me," she added, because it seemed polite.
Princess Ovelia's eyes were distant again. "I am glad to hear you say that," she said vaguely. "But...Agrias... No, nevermind. We are both trapped here, bound by roles that have chained us since birth."
It was not untrue. The gulf between knight and royalty was immense, as much as the one between peasant and nobility. Agrias could not sweep Princess Ovelia away on a black chocobo like a knight in a tale. She could not reach out across the gulf to take Princess Ovelia's hand within her own, to draw the princess into an embrace, to sooth away the fear and worry in those eyes with her own hands.
The boundaries of her duties were set in stone: to protect the princess with her life, to give all due honor and praise, and to serve until she could no longer lift her sword. That was all. Anything further was forbidden.
So Agrias did the only thing open to her. She crossed the room between herself and Princess Ovelia in a few long strides and knelt before the princess with her head bowed and her braid nearly brushing the floor. The words fell from her mouth with smoothness borne of many nights of repetition, for all Princess Ovelia had only heard them once before. "By St. Ajora, the Child of God, to the Princess Ovelia I will be true and faithful, and love all which she loves and shun all which she shuns, according to the laws of God and the order of the world. Nor will I ever, with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to her, and I shall stay by her side, to support her with body and blade, until my death or dismissal at her hand. This I vow."
There was no response.
Agrias kept her eyes on the floor, listening only to her own rough breathing.
The seconds ticked by.
A touch alighted on the back of her head, delicate as the brush of a spring breeze. The skirts at the edge of her vision shifted, rustled, then flared out when Agrias felt her head raised to meet Princess Ovelia's pale, smiling face.
As she stared, it occurred to Agrias that she had never seen the princess truly smile before.
"Agrias...thank you. I...I swear as well. I swear I will not allow you to be dismissed, that I should keep you by my side until one of our deaths. That...I swear before St. Ajora, the child of God, that I shall be your protector, defender, and sure resort, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in fair and in foul, with all my worldly powers, to the utmost of my ability, as long as we both shall live."
There was only just enough time for Agrias to register a groom's wedding vows before her useless lips had to match the princess' delicate "Farlem."
The moment stretched between them, hesitant and fragile. The sunlight struck Princess Ovelia's hair, her soft cheek, her deep eyes, covering them all in a brilliant glow.
There was only one thing left to complete a wedding.
Ovelia's lips were soft and welcoming.