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The best thing about the Leveilleur estate, G’raha reflects, is it’s library.
Bookshelves that reached the ceiling, multiple cozy couches on which to sit, tables that are far away from any of the shelves so that nothing gets spilled- it’s an exemplary library. Since he was a young boy, visiting with old Galuf and Krile, G’raha has enjoyed sneaking off to read in this library. While the adults were talking, Krile would take his hand and the two would sneak off, taking one step at a time like the adults couldn’t see them and weren’t perfectly aware of what they were doing. Then they would lose themselves in stories of adventure and heroics until evening fell and Galuf eventually came to find them, asleep on top of the pages. Then he would pick them up and carry them to the carriage, and G’raha would awake at home in his own bed, dreams full of fairies.
That has gotten harder and harder to do over the years, now that he is no longer a child and is expected to actually talk to people. And to be fair, he is good at talking- there are many whispered reports of his smile and his silver tongue. But still, on a night such as this, when Sharlayan’s most esteemed peers fill the Leveilleur’s brilliantly decorated ballroom, he cannot help but want to get away. Too many people, too many eyes, too many whispered comments. And so he arrives at the library.
It’s a wonder that there aren’t more people in here, really- Sharlayan is a nation dedicated to learning. Normally this place would be swarmed with other scholars, hoping to find the key to their papers locked in one of these books. And yet the library is as still and quiet as it was when he was a child. He almost wishes he’d pulled Krile aside too, for old times sake. But no, when he saw her, she was talking to Ejika about something regarding the Students of Baldesion, and he had not wanted to interrupt her with such frivolities.
All is quiet in the library. It is just him and the tale of grand adventure he holds in his hand.
Until the door slams open and a girl sprints past him to slide behind a shelf.
He blinks.
The door gently closes.
The girl pokes her head out from behind the shelf. “Don’t tell them I’m here!” she commands, and then hides again.
He blinks twice.
The door opens again.
To his quiet shock, Krile steps through the door, followed by what has to be the most tired man he’s ever seen in his life. His snow white hair flows down to his shoulders, and he wears a suit in a shade of blue that G’raha knows from reading accounts of the Dragonsong War is most closely associated with the Azure Dragoon.
Estinien Varlineau. G’raha had known he was in attendance tonight, but he hadn’t dreamed of meeting him like this. And in the company of Krile, no less! He’d beg to shake the man’s hand, but, clearly there’s some sort of situation going on here. Curiouser and curiouser.
“Raha,” Krile pants, clearly winded. “Have you seen,” and she takes another deep breath, “have you seen a girl- around your age, I think- come in here? She should be wearing,” a gesture towards Sir Varlineau, “a dress in this color.”
G’raha thinks back to what the girl had said, and quickly makes a decision. “No, I haven’t seen anyone,” he says. “Is everything alright, Krile?”
“Yes,” she says, beginning to catch her breath. “It seems Sir Varlineau here has lost his charge. We’re looking for her now.”
“Damn girl slipped off while I was talking to Alphinaud,” Sir Varlineau grumbles, though G’raha imagines he can hear a hint of affection in his voice. Whoever this girl is, they must be very close.
“I see,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “Have you checked the hedge maze? She may have gotten lost in it.”
Krile sighs. “That sounds like her. Thank you, Raha. We’ll leave you to your reading now.” The two slip back out, and the library is left as quiet as it was before.
G’raha waits a minute before he speaks. “You can come out now. They should be gone.”
There’s a moment of silence, before the girl slips out from behind the shelf. She is indeed wearing a dress of azure blue. She’s a Miqo’te like him, with dark skin and hair, and dark red eyes. “Thank you,” she says, smiling brightly. “Sorry to ask you to lie, but it was very important that they stay together a bit longer.”
G’raha opens his mouth to speak, but the girl charges on. “It was a good idea telling them to go to the hedge maze! With any luck they’ll get lost and have to spend an hour or so together. I’ve been trying to get them to spend at least more than five minutes together but things are always coming up.”
He blinks, trying to process what she’d just said. “May I ask- why are you trying to get Krile and Sir Varlineau to spend time together, miss…?”
“Leona Falsus, but you should call me Leonie now that we’re partners in crime.” Leona settles down on one of the couches, smiling at him. She has a beautiful smile, warm and inviting. And slightly mischievous too, if the look in her eyes has anything to say about it. And, come to think of it- had he not heard the announcement of a “Miss Falsus” alongside “Sir Estinien Varlineau”?
“That would be rather improper, Miss Falsus,” he says.
She leans back on the couch, crossing her arms. That beautiful smile turns into a pout. “Sharlayan is so formal! I’ve had to learn all these new rules and nobody will call me by my name and I’ve had to go everywhere with Estinien. Like I didn’t survive all my life without him! How am I supposed to have adventures-”
She breaks off. “Well. I guess Estinien also wants to go on adventures, because he keeps suggesting we try to break into Labyrinthos- sorry, what was your name? I feel like I should know before I confess intent to break and enter to you.”
“G’raha Tia, at your service,” he answers. So she’s not from Sharlayan. That makes sense- he’d caught a faint accent in her voice. Thavnair, perhaps? Still, that does not explain her unusual name. It’s Garlean, if he’s not mistaken. But if she was Garlean, surely she would not be in the house of famously interventionist Louisoix Leveillur. He puts the thought aside.
“It’s very nice to meet you.” She sticks out her hand, and he obligingly shakes it. “Is that The Tale of Cecil you’re holding? That’s one of my favorite stories.”
And she’s a woman of taste, it seems. He feels the urge to talk for hours about his favorite stories come over him, but he holds it back. “Yes, but- you haven’t told me why you’re trying to get Sir Varlineau and Krile to spend time together.”
“Right!” She claps her hands together, looking at him excitedly. “Don’t you think they’d be a good couple?”
He blinks.
“What?”
“A good couple!” She looks up at him, stars in her eyes. “She’s always teasing him, and he’s teasing her back-”
“He’s what-”
“-in that weird stoic way he does where he’s gruff about it but he’s really sincere and I just think-”
“-they’ve been what-
“-that’d they be really cute! Sorry, what were you saying?”
“You- they’ve been spending time together?”
“Yes, I keep inviting Krile so they can bond a bit.”
He rubs his temples. “Sorry, could you- start at the beginning? I’m a tad bit confused on how we got here.”
“Okay!” She takes a deep breath. “Estinien is- he’s like an older brother to me, really, but we’re not actually related, you know how it is-”
G’raha does know how it is. He nods. “It’s much the same with Krile and I.”
“Oh, really? What a coincidence! When we came here, Urianger suggested he- Estinien- chaperone me. I guess Mama can’t do it? I’m not too certain on how the rules work. Everything’s so complicated in Sharlayan.”
“I remember being rather confused myself when I first came here as a child,” he says. “It took me a while, but I eventually managed with the help of several etiquette guides. I’m sure the same is possible for you.”
That smile beams back up at him. “Thank you. You’ll have to show me those guides. But, well- since he’s been chaperoning me, and since the Students of Baldesion sponsored us being here, we’ve been spending so much time with Krile. And I love Krile, really, she’s so nice and really she’s been the backbone of the S- the backbone of the Students, and I started thinking to myself, she gets along so well with Estinien too! I mean, she and Tataru sort of hunted him down that one time but- Estinien’s so prickly sometimes unless you’ve known him for like ten years or have saved his life and after the whole Dragonsong thing he’s started opening up and-”
“You think he gets along well with Krile?”
“He does! He’s teasing her! And she’s teasing him back! She called him Sir Taciturn! And I thought, well, surely they could maybe be even closer if I weren’t here, right? So I’ve tried to give them the slip a few times but...well, it hasn’t been so successful. Last time I tried it was in the agora and I had to run back because I saw a merchant talking to him and he’s just...he’s just so bad with money.”
“Is he now?” It’s strange to think of such an impressive man having such a mundane flaw.
She nods solemnly. “People just tell him prices and he pays them. I don’t think he’s ever heard of haggling.”
“That doesn’t sound too ba-”
“He spent a million gil on a hair tie.”
“Ah.”
“Yep.” She shifts on the couch, standing up to stretch. “So you understand- I had to take the chance while we were here. There’s no merchants or anything.”
“A noble goal,” he muses, stroking his chin. “Might I suggest something?”
“I’m all ears.” Her ears obligingly twitch.
He stifles a laugh. “There’s a rather popular park near here, if I recall. Krile has mentioned it to me a few times. It seems members of the ton regularly gather there to walk. Now, you could go there with your chaperone and Krile-”
“And then pretend to see a friend there and run off?” She guesses.
He smiles. “Precisely. Although, this would work a good deal better if you really did see someone you knew. Plausible deniability.”
“Hmm…” She closes her eyes. “I could ask Alisaie to be there. Estinien’s rather awkward around her ever since he mistook her for Alphie, so he wouldn’t be eager to run after me.”
“You’re acquainted with Miss Leveilleur?”
Her eyes open. “Hm? Yes. Do you know her too?”
He lets out a soft laugh. “Miss Falsus, with the amount of friends we have in common, it is a wonder we have not met already.”
She lets out a laugh that, much like everything else about her, is bright and gleaming. G’raha thinks to himself that she’s a veritable candle- no, a candle wouldn’t be bright enough. Surely she’s some sort of star, come down from the sky to cause trouble for her brother.
“It is, isn’t it!” She takes a step forward, taking his hands in hers. It’s a bold move. He feels a flush come over his cheeks. “But I’m glad I met you now,” she says, giving his hands a squeeze before letting go. “After all, we’re partners in crime now. You’re in on this scheme whether you like it or not.”
“There is nowhere I’d rather be,” he assures her, and is rewarded with another laugh. He tucks it away in his chest, to be examined later.
She crosses over to the window. He follows, hopelessly drawn into her orbit. “Can you see the hedge maze from here? I want to see if I can spot them from here.”
“You can.” He points it out to her.
She squints through the window. “I think-” She leans in closer, nose pressing against the glass, “-I think I can see something yellow. You look. Tell me if that looks like Krile.”
He looks. “You know what, I do believe it is.”
“Excellent!” she cheers. She takes a few whirling steps out into the middle of the room. Her dress spins out around her. “I’m so good at this! And you are too! We should open a matchmaking service.”
“A couple of your choice matched or your money back guaranteed?”
“Exactly!” she snaps her fingers. “And we’ll offer discounts for friends and family. I can see it now.”
She twirls around a few more steps, staring up at the ceiling. “Mm...it’s a shame to miss the dancing, though,” she says absently. “Even the dances are different here in Sharlayan. I had two dreams as a child- to be a dragoon and to dance at the bazaar in Radz-at-Han.” She laughs. “Well, I achieved one of them.”
So she’s from Thavnair, then. “I assume you drew many a crowd to the bazaar,” he says, drawing another laugh from her.
“No, I became a dragoon,” she corrects. “That’s how me and Estinien met.”
He can see it. “I don’t suppose you were inspired by the dragoon in The Tale of Cecil?”
Another twirl. “How did you know?”
“You seemed a woman of good taste,” he says. “He’s a fascinating character.”
She stops in the center of the room, eyes focused on the constellations painted on the ceiling. He feels, for a reason he cannot explain, a twinge deep in his chest. When he was a child, he would lay on his back to stare up at those contellations, so different from his memories of Corvos. Sometimes he’d stay there for hours, dreaming of being among them.
“Miss Falsus,” he says, holding out a hand, “May I have this dance?”
She’s broken from her trance, eyes sliding to him. “Oh! I, uh- here?”
“If you’re worried about there being no music, I can hum a tune.” For a single agonizing second, he’s worried she will say no. “I’m rather good with music,” he says, stupidly, rushing to say something to fill the silence.
She blesses him by taking his hand. “That seems like fun,” she smiles. “But you’ll have to show me the steps.”
“Gladly, my lady.” He takes her other hand, positioning it on his shoulder. “This is a waltz.” He places his hand on her waist and feels a strange thrill run through him at her little shiver. “When I step back, you step forward-” he demonstrates, “-and when I step to the side, you follow. Then you step back, and then to the side again.”
She performs the steps easily enough. It seems her dreams of dancing had not been wasted, as she moves with an easy grace.
“Amazing,” he tells her. “Then we rotate to the left with each step, like so.” He shows her.
A frown creases her face. “Show me again?”
He does so. She mimics his steps. The frown fades, replaced by a triumphant smile. “I’ve got it. Now what?”
“Then we begin to travel across the floor, like so- one, two, three-” Here is where she trips, falling forwards onto his chest, He catches her, thankfully, sending a nervous glance towards the door of the library. This is a compromising position to be caught in, waltzing alone with no chaperone. (Not that he can complain, considering he sent said chaperone away.)
But she straightens up, and the moment passes without someone bursting in to demand his head. “Sorry! Show me again?”
“One, two, three-” he pulls her across the floor, and this time she manages to go with him, only stumbling a little. And then- he will not admit to this, as long as he lives- G’raha puts his foot wrong. Only so that he’ll stumble a bit, so that she’ll stumble too, so that he’ll feel her hands on his chest again.
And then they tumble down onto the floor.
His plan, G’raha thinks, has worked a little too well. Her hands are on his chest, yes, and so is the rest of her. She’s straddling him, legs on either side of his. Her face is about an ilm from his, her lips- her lips-
They’re so close, he can feel her breath over his face. He’s frozen, looking up at her eyes. They really are beautiful. Huge and shining and a dark red, the color of roses- a thought flashes into his head of her in a rose garden. How would her lips feel? Would they be as soft as petals?
What is she thinking? Is she thinking the same about him? His hair has fallen, uncovering his other eye. Does she find the bright red and green unusual? Unnatural? Will she push him away? That embarassing old schooltime wound raises it’s head in his chest again and he feels a flash of fear. He raises one hand. To do what, he can’t imagine- to brush his hair back over his eye, to caress her face, to touch the tiny mole near her eye that he’s only just noticed.
There’s noise near the door. The two of them freeze.
“...wasn’t there,” he hears Krile, oh gods, it’s Krile, say through the door. “Can you think of anywhere else she might be?”
There’s a long silence before Sir Varlineau responds “She might have gone back to the ballroom. She said she was excited to dance.”
A wild notion dances in G’raha heart, to yell so that they might find them in here, so that they might see the two of them, her on top of him, and then-
“That makes sense,” Krile sighs. “Let’s go there, then. Maybe Alphinaud has seen her.”
The sound of steps away. G’raha’s hand falls limp to the ground. He’d pressed it to his mouth, to keep him from saying anything. If they’d found them, he would have had to- he would have gladly-
Leona has not stopped looking at him.
It’s not like before, when she stared up at the stars on the ceiling with that absent look in her eyes. Her gaze is focused, intense- her pupils, he notices dazedly, are as wide as dinner plates. Her ears twitch on her head.
“You have very pretty eyes,” she says, and then she pulls herself up. She offers him a hand, and G’raha, desperate to regain a bit of the warmth that has just left him, takes it.
“Leave the library a little bit after me, okay?” she asks, and he nods along, barely processing what she’d said. He’d agree to anything right now. She could hand him a contract to sell his soul and he’d sign it. “So they don’t know we were in here together.”
“Of course, Miss Falsus,” he says.
“Leonie,” she says.
“It wouldn’t be proper-” he says, and then adds, “-Leona.” Just to see her smile. She does. Her smiles don’t seem hard to earn, and yet he’d pin every one to his chest if he could.
“I’ll see you, G’raha.”
Then she slips out the door. It closes shut behind her with a gentle click.
G’raha stares after her, and then goes to pick up the copy of The Tale of Cecil, to return it to the shelf. It wouldn’t do to leave the library a mess.
Perhaps he should go visit that park, soon.