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By accident. She is there by accident. She says that to herself every time she looks outside and the night sky does not seem at all that which she has learned on the source. Still, Dulia does not worry. She has friends here, she has her dear twins (yes, my Alisaie, you are hers too, you just do not know it yet). Soon enough the Exarch will take her back (she has his promise, hers too, all of these little children so worried over her) and everything will be fine. It allows her to rest here. It is like a little vacation, is it not? Gridania is such a quaint little place and her lovely elf visits her as much as possible. Such a good boy. Such a good wonderful boy. Who is not seeing her as he walks right on by. Well. It is not like he is going anywhere strange, now is it? It is just a clearing.
Holding her skirts close, the noblewoman follows, step by step, her ears twitching in curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, they say. Those do not know Lady Dulia because she will have the world bend in front of her before allowing anyone to tell her she can’t do anything. Grinning widely (snickering under her breath, even), she tiptoes behind her darling.
Oh, such a lovely gathering. From the Mayor with such kind clear beautiful eyes, to their Scions (she has had that explained to her, such good wonderful people they are), to the Warrior of Darkness, standing tall and impassive. Look at her little darlings too, so similar, so strong. She stops right at the edge of the clearing. This might be important, she does not want to interrupt. The Lady nods, sagely and gentle, and turns to return to the apartment when she notices a man she does not know.
It is an elf. Tall, far taller than her darlings. The white color of his hair is known, familiar after these last months; the posture reminds her a bit of her husband now that he has relaxed into his position in Eulmore. It is someone with power, with reason, who guides others and expects being followed. And more than that, he looks like a grown Alphinaud, oh, how wonderful. Their father, is it? Did he come to visit? Curiosity killed the cat but it has yet to touch Lady Dulia so she walks a little further, a little closer. Her tail stills, silent as she is, silent like a little mouse on the hills, shh, do not make a sound, she tells herself.
“I thought you would know better than to raise your voice to your elders!”
Dulia halts. Her eyes narrow as she straightens. That tone, she does not like it all. It reminds her of bad days, awful memories of when Eulmore was run by an Upper class and she was still ignorant and foolish. And she does not like, most of all, to hear it from a father to his children. Does he care not for them? Look at their little faces. Disappointed and hurt. Her eyes fill with tears as she contains the urge to run forward, to gather them in her arms.
The man continues to speak, subjects and peoples she does not know and, frankly, cannot care about. She lacks the information, she does not belong here. Places and beings and creatures, it is not her fault she cannot feel attached to them. Just these people, right here. They are all she has in this place.
Then she hears it.
Not the words. She cannot completely hear the words. Tears glisten on clear eyes, their faces, so set, they so try to be impassive as their hearts crack, break open, fall apart. Oh. Oh, my darlings.
Dulia does not know when she runs forward. When she notices, she is in front of her twins, of her sweethearts, all of her form protecting them from their father’s— no, this man does not deserve that name, this being’s gaze which is disgusting and cruel. He does not deserve them. He does not. And he does not deserve to hurt them, her mind whispers as she clenches her hands, does not deserve to look at them or talk to them or those tears he is causing.
“Lady Dulia!”
Her hand hurts so. His face seems to hurt more, there is a large gash on his cheek, bleeding, bleeding. Her ring caught on skin, did he? Not enough, nothing will never be enough. What if she slaps him again? What if she punches his time?
“Lady Dulia!”
Her Alphinaud attempts to hold her back but she will not allow such a thing.
“If you do not want them, in your stupid foolish misguided need to be correct, you disgusting sack of of…amaro feces, then I will most happily take your place. They will be mine! They are mine! My children, my little darlings because they deserve, they need so much more than you. You horrible disgusting little man! Light take you, you—”
She continues to speak (something, the lady is not sure what she is saying at this point) but her darlings are holding her arms, both placating as only good children will. There is also someone who seems to be laughing over her words but she is not sure who. No matter, not then.
“Lady Dulia, it is alright?” Alisaie breaks through the fog covering her eyes first, the poor sweetheart. Her lip trembles a little. Of rage, perhaps, she is more fire than her brother. But she hurts, Dulia knows she must be. Carefully (to her), she pulls her into her bosom, not even allowing Alphinaud to flee before gripping him closer as well. With both in her arms, safe and secure, she glares with all her might to their former father. Leave, she wants to growl (she does not, she is a lady even if she punched him. Twice. It was just twice right?), leave because they are jewels to me and you are. Not. Welcome.
It must be enough because, formalities aside, the man gathers the rest of his dignity (still bleeding, she sees) and stalks off. Disgusting little creature.
The Warrior of Darkness waits exactly one moment after the Elezen leaves to look at her. There is a wide smile on their rugged features, traces of laughter which make them shake in their place like one with too much energy.
“My darling lady, do come to every single reunion we have from now on.”
Off they go, chuckling under their breath. It sounded like a compliment, she believes? Then that is fine. She pets her children’s hair and smiles gently as she hears their questions of her state. Does she hurt, is she alright? Thank you but it wasn’t needed, it is alright. We are safe. Of course they are, she nods along; she is there, isn't she?
And if her mind is lost on ways to make the man suffer before leaving the city, well, that is no one’s business but her own, now is it?