"Stop pacing," Dilandau snapped in her head. "You're driving me nuts!" She frowned and halted, staring out one of the large windows to the courtyard beyond, pressing her hands against the cold glass. Allen and his sergeant Gaddes had worked out a plan for her future as they had traveled across Gaia to this small duchy: the sergeant had a cousin who'd married a minor Hamatian nobleman; it was possible that she could be warded with the family. Allen had immediately thought of this when she had let him know Dilandau was still very much a part of her, and the goldenhaired knight had reasoned that she could be hid away in Hamat where nobody would recognize her or, more importantly, Dilandau.

She caught a sudden movement from the corner of her eye and started, but it was only Gaddes. The tall, darkhaired man walked up and smiled down at her reassuringly.

"Isabella-san and her husband Sean are talking with the boss right now," he said. "My cousin is a kind woman; I'm sure she'll have a place for you." Impulsively she took his hands and clutched them tightly.

"Oh, Gaddes," she exclaimed, "I do hope so!" The sergeant squeezed her hands, then winked and let go.

"We've been invited to supper at the very least," he said with a smile. "I've got to get the guys together, then I'll be back to escort you in." He left the deck and she turned back towards the windows, feeling a little better.

"What do you think?" she whispered. She felt Dilandau smirk.

"I think we're going to have a lot of fun."

* * *

Isabella du Pays studied Allen Schezar as he sat before them, talking with her husband. A very good-looking man, with honors of distinction and great wealth. Gaddes-san had written to her about his employer, his occasional letters glowing with praise of his courage and achievements within Asturia and during the Great War. She inwardly shuddered at the unbidden memory of that world-wide battle, silently cursing the Alliance that had cost Hamat over half of her fighting force. One of their so-called allies had detonated a terrible device that destroyed friend and foe alike and had rendered the countryside inhabitable. Isabella heartily approved of the Hamatian Duke's decision to break off from the Alliance after the War, as well as his recent forging of a new alliance with the Zaibach Empire, their nearest neighbor. She had lost her father and two brothers to that "friendly fire," and her heart ached at the terrible wounds her oldest son still suffered from. The Zaibach Empire was still a powerful world force, and its new rulers had welcomed their former enemy quite courteously.

She cleared her head of these musings and came back to the problem at hand. It appeared that Sir Allen had a younger sister that he wanted to live with them for awhile. He wished to broaden her experience; life in another country would be good for her. Say, for a year or two? He would of course pay them a monthly stipend for her upkeep. Isabella frowned, thinking it over. She wasn't wild about harboring an Asturian; the relations between that country and Hamat's new ally were very strained, to say the least. Also, Asturia was still allied with that traitor kingdom that had killed so many of Hamat's soldiers, and that didn't sit too well with her either. However, the knight was a man of great stature in Asturia, and Gaddes-san was her cousin. The political connections could turn out to be advantageous, especially if this sister could be induced become part of the family. Isabella thought of her youngest, Philippe, and she couldn't repress a smile. Her baby, although at eighteen he really couldn't be called that any more. She examined the knight once again, noting with approval the large blue eyes, fine features and well-proportioned body. If his sister was even half as handsome, she thought, she would do quite well as a wife to her son.

Her husband turned towards her, an eyebrow raised. She smiled and nodded slightly, and he turned back to the knight.

"I think this might work out well," he said with a smile, and Sir Allen bowed his head slightly.

"Domo arigato, du Pays-san," he said. "I am in your debt." They all stood and headed for the chamber exit. "I think you will find Lady Celena a wonderful addition to your family," he added warmly as they walked towards the diningroom.

We'll see, Isabella thought as she followed the two men, her brow furrowed in thought.

* * *

Celena felt relief wash over her as she was seated on her brother's right at the large dining table. Allen had greeted her with a smile and hug as she'd entered the diningroom, Gaddes at her side. He had turned her towards Mr. and Mrs. du Pays and they had greeted her with friendly formalness, which Celena had returned most humbly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the inappropriateness of her attire. She was still wearing the exercise outfit she had on when they had escaped Van in Asturia: all her other clothes were still at Allen's mansion. Mr. du Pays had looked about and frowned, his grey eyes narrowing.

"I'd introduce you to our son, Philippe, but it would appear that he's late," he said. Mrs. du Pays blushed and put a placating hand on her husband's arm.

"He must be out with his friends and lost track of time," she'd said quietly, her sharp features softening. He had snorted, then drawn himself up and smiled apologetically to his guests as he gestured towards the waiting table.

"Is Philippe your only child?" Allen asked politely after they were seated and served warm damp cloths to wash their hands. Mr. du Pays shook his head, his face darkening in sudden sorrow.

"We have another son, Luc, our eldest," he replied quietly. "He was wounded in the Great War and is recuperating in a spa along the Eastern Sea."

"I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune," Allen said sincerely. "The Great War extracted a heavy price upon many." Mrs. du Pays signaled the first course to begin, her features twisting in irritation.

"We know better now than to trust the Alliance," she said shortly. "Destroying their own people!" Allen blinked in surprise as her vehemence.

"My lady?" he asked. Mr. du Pays shushed his wife and smiled again, then opened his mouth to reply...

"I'm bored!" Dilandau suddenly spat and Celena turned her attention upon him; the voices at the table fading to a murmur.

"Didn't you have to put up with this sort of thing before?" she asked, smiling. He snorted.

"Too much. But I was a warlord, remember? Got to do a lot of fighting. And burning..." She suppressed a shudder as she took a sip of tea.

"Well, this information could be useful," she said. "We're going to be here a long time, after all."

"Oh, yeah, just how I want to spend my life: cooped up in Nowheresville..."

"What?" Allen suddenly exclaimed. Celena jerked her attention back to her brother. He was staring at Mr. du Pays, his mouth hanging open, chopsticks fallen from his fingers.

"You're allied with Zaibach now?" he repeated, dumbfounded. Dilandau laughed in surprise and she shushed him, fear tightening her throat.

"Of course," Mr. du Pays replied grimly. "All the kingdoms of Gaia are in flux now; Hamat's too small to defend herself against her neighbors."

"Especially since our armed forces were depleted so badly in the Great War," his wife added coldly. Allen backed down, shooting a look across the table to Gaddes. Then both men looked at her. Celena shivered, knowing they were seeing Dilandau and wondering if this was such a good solution to their problem after all. She heard him laugh again in her head.

"You're right, Celena," he drawled. "This is useful information." She shivered in response, then calmed down and frowned at him.

"Behave," she growled. "We both know I'm stronger than you." She could feel him scowl, but he didn't reply. Allen was staring grimly at her now, but she smiled and shook her head, reaching over to touch his hand.

"It'll be OK," she whispered. "Don't worry, Brother." He smiled back at her, his blue eyes warm, and squeezed her hand. Then he turned back to their hosts and smoothly started a new conversation, easing their feelings back towards friendly acceptance. Celena bent her head and ate another piece of sushi. She hated raw fish, but it would be impolite to leave it on her plate. Her mind whirled at this news: having Zaibach allied to Hamat surely increased their chances of being discovered tenfold, since the duchy would be using Zaibach's military to supplement its own forces. She couldn't cope with this right now - she was having a hard enough time dealing with the fact that soon Allen would be leaving her. A sudden panic clutched at her, and she fought against it.

"Relax, Celena," Dilandau said softly. "You're not alone, remember?" She snarled down at him, wanting to lash out at somebody.

"What a fine companion you make!" she snapped. "You'll be across the border as soon as I drop off to sleep tonight! I'll never be free again..." She felt him grimace.

"Perhaps," he replied. "I can't lie to you. But this is a different Zaibach than the one I fought under. And all my men are dead." She felt his sudden sorrow and her heart hurt in response.

"Oh, Dilandau," she whispered forlornly. "Can't you just ..."

The diningroom doors slid open and she looked up to see a young man come sauntering in. He was of medium height and quite good-looking: long dark brown hair framing an angular face with large hazel eyes. The resemblance to Mrs. du Pays was striking, and she assumed that this was the missing Philippe. He stopped at the sight of Allen, Gaddes and herself, then bowed slightly and looked over to Mr. du Pays.

"Father," he drawled, "We have guests?" Dilandau snorted.

"Bright boy," he observed dryly and she stifled a sudden giggle.

"May I introduce our son, Philippe," Mr. du Pays said shortly. "Son, you remember your second cousin Gaddes? This is his employer Sir Allen Schezar and his sister Lady Celena." Philippe merely nodded his head at them this time, then dropped down next to Gaddes.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, attacking the plate of sushi that was placed before him. Mrs. du Pays gazed upon him fondly.

"Philippe-kun," she said and he looked up at her. "Celena will be staying with us for awhile." The young man slid his eyes over to her and stared, slowly looking her up and down, causing the blood to rush to her cheeks. She heard Dilandau growl inside her.

"NO ONE LOOKS AT ME THAT WAY!" he suddenly shouted. "JUST YOU WAIT, BOY..."

"Be quiet!" she snapped. "He's not looking at you!" She looked up at Allen but he had resumed his conversation with Mr. du Pays. Suddenly she heard Philippe make a sound of annoyance. She looked over to see Gaddes wink at her. Philippe was rubbing his ear and glaring at the sergeant.

"Be nice to your new houseguest," he ordered softly. "Or you'll have me to answer to." The young man scowled at him, then dropped his eyes and resumed eating. Gaddes shrugged his shoulders slightly, frowning at him, then turned towards Mrs. du Pays, who had been watching them. She looked a little vexed, but brightened under his smile.

"Isabella-san," he said warmly, "do you remember the time when..."

* * *

After supper, Allen and Mr. du Pays withdrew into the main receiving room to work out the details of her stay. Philippe disappeared immediately after eating and Gaddes went to check on the airship. Mrs. du Pays led Celena to her own receiving room.

"Oh, this bites," Dilandau snarled as the women settled themselves on two of the soft cushions that lay in intricate patterns on the floor. "We get to waste time with the old bat while our lives are being all planned out for us." Celena smiled shyly at Mrs. du Pays, inwardly snarling back down at him, and he fell silent.

"You've got a lot to learn about being female," she said quietly to him. Mrs. du Pays was looking at her thoughtfully, gesturing for her to pour the waiting tea. Celena carefully picked up the full pot and filled their cups, anticipating the imminent polite interrogation, which began once the older woman took her first sip. What was her knowledge of etiquette? Art? Music? History? Fashion? What was her lineage? Did she have any other accomplishments?

"Tell her you've killed about two dozen men with the kitana and burned down at least five cities and one kingdom," Dilandau smirked and she managed to strangle her answering laughter into a coughing fit. Mrs. du Pays looked at her with some concern, then relaxed as Celena took a swallow of tea and smiled at her.

"Forgive me," she said softly, bowing her head, and the older woman smiled back.

"Well," Mrs. du Pays stated, "It would appear that your brother has raised you to be a fine young noblewoman."

"Domo arigato, du Pays-san," Celena replied, relieved.

"Call me Lady Isabella," she smiled and stood. Celena quickly rearranged the tea things back onto their tray, then stood as well. The two women left the room and walked slowly back to the main receiving room. The paper doors were open and Allen was waiting for them in the hallway. He bowed to the noblewoman, who bobbed her head at him and then turned towards Celena.

"I'll get a room prepared for you, my dear," she said kindly and left. Celena turned towards her brother, suddenly panic-stricken, tears springing from her eyes and running down her cheeks.

"Oh, Allen!" she cried out and threw herself into his arms. "Don't leave me! Please!" He hugged her tightly, then gently loosened her hands and pulled her away from him. His blue eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he smiled as he tenderly caressed her cheek, wiping away her tears.

"You'll be OK," he said. "The du Pays are honorable and have a good standing in this community. They will take care of you completely." He lightly kissed her lips, then gripped her shoulders and frowned into her eyes.

"Dilandau," he said grimly. "You know what the stakes are. I love Celena more than anything, but if you're discovered, I won't stop anyone from killing you. If I get to you first, you will never be free again. Understand?" She shook as she felt Dilandau's instant fury. But he remained silent.

"Well? What do you say?" she asked him.

"YOU CAN TELL THAT SELF-RIGHTEOUS SON OF A BITCH THIS!" he bellowed, his voice rising to a scream of rage.

"Dilandau!" she shouted and she could feel his great effort to calm down.

"Fine," he said shortly. "Tell him 'Fine'."

"He says that's fine," she said dutifully and Allen gave her a wry smile.

"How nice of him," he replied and she winced as he screamed again in her head. Then she hugged her brother again, wishing with all her might that he could stay with her but knowing it couldn't be so.

"Oh, Celena," Allen said sadly. "Our time together was too short." He stepped back from her as Lady Isabella appeared, his handsome face sober. He thanked the older woman courteously, then, with a final glance at her, turned and left. Celena watched him go, feeling an unbearable pain in her heart. She was grateful for Dilandau's sullen presence, despite the trouble she knew he would be.

Never alone again, she thought with quiet sorrow, then turned her attention to her new benefactress.

"Gaddes-san has informed me that your things were lost on the trip over, so I guess the first item on the agenda is to get you some new clothes," the woman said, eyeing her worn exercise outfit curiously. Celena smiled and bowed. A low, painful throb started at her temples.

"Forgive me," she said softly, "but I'm awfully tired. May we postpone this until tomorrow morning?" Lady Isabella frowned slightly, then nodded.

"I may have some outfits that could fit you," she commented as she led the way down the wide wooden corridor. Celena looked at the petite figure walking a step ahead of her and had her doubts. The young noblewoman was slender but tall, and she resigned herself to going shopping tomorrow looking like a little girl in her short "first" skirts.

"I hope you will enjoy your stay here," Lady Isabella commented, breaking into her reverie.

"I'm sure it will be wonderful," she replied courteously. The lady smiled.

"What did you think of Philippe?" she asked.

"He's an ass," Dilandau snorted and Celena, who had opened her mouth to reply, had a horrible second when she thought she had echoed his words aloud. But the older woman was looking back at her, her face politely interested.

"He seems very nice. Handsome, too," she said shyly and was rewarded with a warm smile.

"He can be a trial," Lady Isabella sighed, "but he's really a fine young man." Celena murmured a soft ascent and they stopped at a set of closed doors. Lady Isabella slid them open and gestured within.

"Just ring the bell if you need anything, and I'll send my maid Mary to attend to you." Celena thanked her, bowing, then waited as the woman slid the doors closed and walked away. Then she collapsed onto the low futon, clutching the pillow to her chest and sobbing uncontrollably.

"Allen, Allen," she choked out. "I can't do this!"

"Hey, Celena, come down here," Dilandau said softly and she immediately slipped down into the darkness, appearing in the empty room. He was standing, holding out his arms; she ran to him and buried her face in his undershirt. He hugged her, chuckling.

"Poor Celena!" he pouted. "So lost without Dear Brother Allen!" Celena gasped in sudden anger and jerked away from him. He crossed his arms, smiling sardonically.

"That's better," he said. "Look, we've got this great opportunity to really live it up and all you can think about is: where's Allen? What am I to do now that Allen's gone?" He snorted, then spun about, throwing his arms wide.

"Don't you get it?" he exclaimed, his red eyes blazing. "We're free! We're never going to be locked up again!" Celena stared at him, excitement starting to grow within her. Freedom? Could it be possible? Then she drew herself up and glared at him.

"What about the Zaibach Empire?" she asked accusingly. "You're not going to take off tonight?" He shrugged.

"It's not going anywhere soon," he replied easily, "and I want to explore."

"Really," she said suspiciously. He grinned.

"See, you're all better now," he said smugly, but she waved her hand impatiently.

"Why would you want to do anything but get back to your old life?" He scowled at her.

"I told you before," he snarled. "Who can I go back to? General Adelphos? He didn't want me in the first place." He turned away and swung his arm through the air as if throwing something, hard.

"My entire troop is dead. The Zaibach military would probably send me back to the sorcerers..." A shudder shook his frame and he turned back to her, fear sparking through his eyes. Celena shivered in response: her mind couldn't remember the experiments they had performed to turn her into Dilandau, but some other part of her did, because now her shaking wouldn't stop. She saw her own sudden terror mirrored in his eyes as he reached his trembling hands out to her. She linked her fingers in his and their shaking stilled.

"It's over," she whispered.

"We're together," he replied softly.

"One," they said in unison. Celena closed her eyes, feeling a wave of security wash over her, then opened them and looked at him. He was staring down at her, his pale features now calm, then the familiar smirk quirked his lips. She let go of his hands and frowned.

"Be patient," she said sternly. "Let me get a little settled here, then we'll work out how you can come out."

"And play?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, play," she retorted. "But, NO BURNING!" He scowled, then his face smoothed out and he grinned at her.

"Whatever you say, Celena."

* * *

Dilandau looked at himself in the mirror in Celena's bedroom, his image silvered by the light of the two moons, and frowned. It had been over a week since the du Pays had taken them in, and he just couldn't stand being locked up in her head any longer. So he had waited until Celena had gone to sleep, then slipped her down into the room and gone up, immediately ripping open the tight neckline of her nightgown so he could breathe. Why she insisted on trying to choke herself while she slept was beyond him. He had yanked off the frilly thing and pulled on his exercise pants, enjoying the cool evening air against his skin, then had walked over to the mirror that made up part of her simple vanity. And frowned. He was a mess: his hair had gotten very shaggy and of course his pants were now pretty worn out. And he needed a shave. He ran her comb through his hair, but it didn't help. Then Dilandau smiled as he looked himself over again: he had gotten taller and broader about the shoulders and chest; his face had lost some of its boy-roundness and his large red eyes retained that mesmerizing quality he had always put to good use. But he still looked terrible. Perhaps Celena had gotten something a little roomy in her shopping excursion. He walked over to her wardrobe and opened it, then snorted as he riffled through her new clothes.

"Look at this crap," he murmured. "It's a wonder she can breathe, much less walk." He did have to admit that the dresses, blouses and pants were very well cut; the colors and patterns well suited to Celena's light skin and pale golden curls. However, none of it would work for him, and that was a problem. He toyed with the idea of sneaking out: he knew the layout of the mansion and its surrounding courtyard well enough, and Allen had privately left them a hefty little nest egg for emergencies. But the grounds were heavily guarded; the risk of detection was just too great.

"Hey, Celena, wake up," he called down to her as he faced the mirror once again.

"Hmmm-what? HEY!" she shouted and he laughed.

"Surprise!" he said, then frowned as he felt her anger.

"Oh, come on, Celena," he said coaxingly. "I just needed to get out for a little while. I'm still in our room, can't you see?"

"All I can see is your image in my mirror," she growled, then yawned. "Would you ask next time?"

"Sure, sure. But, hey, look at me."

"Yes."

"I look terrible!"

"Mm-hmmm..."

"Are you falling back asleep?"

"Well, yes: I've put in a long day. Lady Isabella is really putting me through the hoops, social-wise." She yawned again. "Now we've got that big party to go to in a couple weeks and you know she's been drilling me on Hamat's who's who and cultural niceties and all that." Suddenly she made a pleased sound.

"I'm glad you've got a futon down here now. Does this room ever remain the same? Anyway, stay in our bedroom and I'll see you tomorrow." He scowled.

"Ce-leeee-naaaa."

"What?" she asked irritably.

"See if you can break away from the du Pays tomorrow and go to Kaze-yama. It's a big city and I should be able to get a haircut, a shave and some decent clothes without attracting any attention." He put his hand up on his forehead, pushing back the silver hair.

"And some jewelry," he added thoughtfully. He felt her sit up and frown.

"How am I supposed to do that?" she asked. "Have I ever been alone except in our bedroom? Guess we aren't so free after all." He smiled.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." She sighed, then yawned again.

"I'll see what I can do," she replied sleepily. "Now will you please get back down here, or do we get to play our power game again?" Dilandau snarled at her: he'd only been out for a few minutes! But he decided to do what she asked. She was going to get him what he wanted, so he would play nice. For now.

* * *

The next morning Celena woke, got dressed and joined her new family for breakfast. The day was going to be a beautiful one, and she was pleased to see that they would be dining in the open garden that lay in the middle of the mansion. She bade Lord Sean and Lady Isabella good morning, and they all sat down. Philippe showed up a few minutes later, much to her surprise: he usually slept in. Celena sipped at her tea, thinking about how to phrase her request. Her request? She inwardly sighed, but she had to admit that Dilandau had a point. If he was going to spend any time outside, then he would need more just a worn exercise outfit to wear. Which brought up another problem: how could they get the time alone so he could get out? She felt a slow resentment rise as she considered how little freedom she had these days. All of her time was spent either with Lady Isabella or with the tutors she had provided her. The noblewoman was versing her in everything, from the nearby Kaze-yama's city laws to running the du Pays household. Celena not only missed her Tai Chi and horseback riding, but she even missed the quiet times in her suite, with just Keiko for company.

I wonder how Keiko is doing? she thought suddenly. Is she getting serious with her boyfriend Paul? Is she developing her drawing? I miss her so!

"Celena-san?" Lady Isabella said softly and she jerked her head up, glad for the interruption. She had been beginning to tear up, but now she smiled, ignoring the fixed stare Philippe was giving her.

"My lady?" she asked.

"I was just mentioning that perhaps today you'd like a break from your studies," the woman said, smiling. "You've been working very hard, and I thought that Philippe could show you some of the local sights."

"No," Dilandau snarled.

"Be quiet," she hissed at him. "This is perfect."

"Perfect for me to slap him up, if I could get out. I'm not spending a day stuck in your head, having to..."

"That sounds wonderful," she replied aloud, smiling shyly at the young man. He smirked back at her, the handsome features distorted, and she repressed a scowl. She saw that expression often enough on Dilandau, and it didn't look any better on Philippe. Why does he have to be so rude? she thought. The few times she had tried to engage him in conversation he had either grunted, which was bad, or pointedly ignored her, which was worse. Celena didn't understand his attitude. He seemed determined to make her as uncomfortable as possible whenever they were together. However, his apparent dislike of her would work wonderfully today. It shouldn't be a problem to get rid of him for a few hours, once he brought her to Kaze- yama. So she turned to Lady Isabella and thanked her most kindly, growling at Dilandau when he again protested. She'd explain it to him later, or else he'd figure it out as the day progressed. The woman beamed at her, then looked expectantly at her son. He smiled broadly.

"It would be an honor, Mother," he said with just a hint of mockery. She reached over, patted his hand and went back to eating. Philippe then trained his large hazel eyes back upon Celena and she fought a surge of anger. How she hated that look!

"He's just undressing you," Dilandau said with a sneer. "Relax, Celena." The blood rushed to her cheeks, but she managed to give the young man a nice smile. He suddenly gave her a friendly smile in return and she felt an unexpected warmth towards him. He looked very handsome: the long brown hair sparkled red in the sunlight and his smile softened the angular features. Celena blushed again as she tried to understand this new emotion. What was wrong with her? Then she resolutely pushed the feeling aside. Focus, focus, she thought, I've got to get some free time once again! She turned towards Lady Isabella.

"My lady?" she asked hopefully and the woman looked at her inquiringly.

"I am much honored to receive all your teachings," she began and the noblewoman beamed. "But I was hoping to add my Tai Chi and horseback riding to my daily routine. They only take a few hours each day out of my schedule. Would that be all right?" She felt Dilandau perk up, and she smiled to herself.

"Trust me," she said softly to him. "I know how to play this particular game." Lady Isabella frowned, gazing thoughtfully at her plate, and Celena wondered if she had spoken too soon.

"I think that's a grand idea," Mr. du Pays said with a smile. His wife started and looked at him.

"You've got the girl practically chained inside all day, every day, Isabella-san. Let her get outside for a little while!" He turned to Celena and grinned. She gaped back at him, then bobbed her head and looked deferentially back at Lady Isabella.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble," she said tentatively. The woman looked at her, her face set in speculation, then nodded shortly.

After breakfast Celena changed into some simple travel wear and grabbed the money pouch that Allen had left her. She folded up their exercise outfit very small and packed it into her purse, along with the coins.

"OK, I'll get him to bring us to Kaze-yama and leave us and then you'll have a couple hours to get your things," she said as she quickly brushed out her hair and coiled it back up onto her head. "Hopefully. Try not to spend all of our money." Dilandau smirked.

"Of course, Celena," he purred and she frowned, then sighed and went out to the front courtyard.

Philippe was waiting for her, leaning against the family carriage. He had also changed, and the dark brown tunic and pants set off his coloring quite well; a large gold stud glittered in his right ear. She smiled brightly at him as he handed her up into the carriage. Then, much to her surprise, he climbed in after her, calling to the driver to take off.

* * *

Philippe du Pays had a simple agenda for his life: live it as richly as possible. The best of everything, all the time. Up to the Great War he'd been able to achieve this goal with ease, but when Luc got permanently wounded, his life had taken a nasty downturn. His father, who had mostly ignored him before, now expected him to take over the duties of the eldest son, and he spent a lot of his time trying to train him in on leading the du Pays household. Philippe highly resented this unexpected attention: he knew that it was only desperation that forced his father to notice him, now that his older brother was out of the picture. Most unbearably, though, it took him away from his play time. He also didn't care for all the work required of the future head of the du Pays. That was Luc's job; hadn't that been spelled out to Philippe from day one? So his brother was physically damaged: if he was a real man he'd deal with the pain and spare his little brother all this trouble.

And as if his life hadn't gotten bad enough, he had a new thorn in his side. Philippe suppressed a sigh and glanced over to this fresh irritation: Lady Celena Schezar. She was looking out of one of the carriage windows, the sunlight brightening her pale gold curls and gilding her light skin. A looker, for sure, with a pretty body to match the perfect face. He'd been baiting her ever since she arrived, just for fun, but she hadn't risen to it and that irked him. She was just so nice! Philippe rolled his eyes. And now he had to baby-sit her for the whole day. He had been planning to hunt boar with Joey and Mick, but no. Sight- seeing! Let's see, he thought sardonically, there's the mountains, the two lakes, the temple and its gardens, and the city. All boring except for the last. Talk about wasting time. But at least she would look good on his arm. She turned from the window and looked at him, and he was struck by the beauty of her large grey-blue eyes. He slowly smiled. Yes, she would look very good with him.

"My lord," she said in her soft contralto.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to show me Kaze-yama," she said. "I've never seen a city before."

"Sure, why not?" Philippe replied. "It's the only interesting thing going around here."

"Domo-arigato, my lord," she said, smiling quite prettily at him. He shrugged and she turned back to the window. Sticking his head out of his own window, he shouted the city name to the driver, then dropped back onto the seat and brushed his windblown hair out of his eyes. Kaze-yama had quite a few diversions; perhaps he could shock some of that niceness out of her...

* * *

They made the city in good time and he had the driver stop at an excellent inn that lay in the heart of the downtown area. He jumped out of the carriage, buckling his kitana around his waist, then turned and handed Celena out. She was looking brightly about, mouth slightly ajar in wonder, and he suddenly thought of his mother and what she would say if anything bad happened. He rebelled for a moment against the thought of her displeasure, then gave in and put aside his plans to take the young woman to the more interesting parts of town. It just wouldn't be worth it. He scowled. There were so many wonderful things to do here, and he was going to be bored out of his mind bringing her to the museums and landmarks. And shopping, most likely. Argh!

"My lord?" she asked and he jerked his head impatiently.

"Call me Philippe," he said shortly and she looked at him in surprise. He stared back at her and she dropped her eyes; he felt a stab of pleasure at her subservience.

"I was wondering if I could have a little time to rest and have some tea," she said hesitantly, waving one slender hand towards the inn and looking again into his eyes. "This is all a little overwhelming." He groaned impatiently.

"We've just spent an hour sitting in a jolting carriage and you want to sit some more?" he asked incredulously. She blushed.

"If you would prefer, you may leave me here. This inn looks quite reputable..."

"It's the most expensive in the district," he retorted. "But, Mother wouldn't want you to be unattended."

"I'll be fine, Philippe-san," she said softly. "I won't tell." Philippe suddenly felt an uncontrollable urge to dump her off and go have some fun. It had been such a long time since he'd been to Kaze-yama. But Mother...

She was looking at him with those eyes again, and he felt himself weakening. The driver was waiting for his instructions; the proprietor of the inn had ventured out and was standing at a respectful distance. What the hell, he thought. It's not like she's going to do anything.

"All right," he said with a smile and she beamed back at him. He ordered the driver to house the carriage at the inn, then gave the proprietor some money and handed her over to him.

"I'll be back in two hours," he stated and she bowed her head, then followed the older man into the restaurant.

Philippe spent the next couple of hours revisiting his old haunts, indulging in his darker appetites. He could just imagine Celena at the inn, drinking tea and admiring the downtown buildings from a window. She was so passive! he thought with a smirk. It's a good thing she was also very beautiful, or else he would never give in to Mother's suggestion of marrying her. He rather enjoyed keeping Lady Isabella on the hook for once; he hadn't said yes or no, yet. But he could see the advantages of the marriage, and perhaps...

"Damn," he exclaimed as the dice he'd just thrown came to rest. That loss put him down to just some pocket change. He grunted and got to his feet, paying off the men who flanked him, then left the gambling house and wandered up the street, somewhat at a loss. He wasn't ready to go back to the inn and start his official tour with Celena but there was nothing else he could do, so he slowly headed back, glancing into the shop windows as he went by. The glitter of gold and precious stones caught his eye and he entered a small shop, idly fingering his earring. He could see if they had a really good garnet and then send for it once he got back home. There were two men in the shop: a smooth-looking older man who was obviously the merchant and a tall, silverhaired customer clad in black with a black-scabbarded kitana at his hip. He was trying on a plain silver diadem from a selection that lay on the counter; studying himself in the mirror that other man held up.

"Really, you look better in silver," the merchant was saying. The man snorted, his right hand dropping down to his swordhilt.

"I know what I look good in, baka," he snarled and the man blanched. "But silver works well. I'll take this one, and the necklace."

"How about a little service here," Philippe said impatiently. Both men turned to look at him and his jaw dropped at the sight of the customer's face. It was strangely beautiful: ivory white skin marred only by a long scar along the right side of his face, fine features and large red-irised eyes topped with silver hair held back by the metal diadem. His close- fitting black jacket was partly open down the front and a silver serpentine necklace gleamed around the white throat. The red eyes blinked, then slowly looked him up and down, one black-gloved hand sliding down the long kitana hilt. Philippe was instantly enraged at his insulting manner, and he grasped at his own swordhilt with a snarl. He didn't look too dangerous - was he even as old as himself? He should be easy to take down. The merchant backed up to the wall and froze, his face drawn in sudden fear. The young silverhaired man grinned and his right hand gently closed about his kitana hilt.

"You look pretty formidable," he said easily. "Let's find out." Philippe, his teeth bared, started to draw his sword, then stopped as he saw the other suddenly give a soft grunt and jerk his head back. He did the odd gesture again, then scowled and glared at him.

"I have to go," he growled. "We'll do this some other time." Philippe snarled in response, starting to draw his kitana again, then stopped and straightened. He was a little rusty with the sword, and there was Celena to think of. He knew he was late; he should be getting back so she wouldn't worry.

"Sure," he said lazily. "Whenever you feel up to it." The man immediately stiffened, his hand gripping his swordhilt, then he relaxed and dropped some money on the countertop, taking up a black satchel that lay at his feet and putting it over his shoulder. Philippe smirked as he passed by him and left the shop, then he turned towards the merchant.

"Quick," he ordered. "Let me see what you've got in garnets."

* * *

Dilandau stalked down the busy street, his face twisted in rage. His chance to do that baka in and she held him back!

"This is getting old, Celena," he growled, shoving aside a slow-moving pedestrian. The man turned about to protest, then quickly walked away after seeing the look on his face and the kitana at his hip. "First Van, now this jerk." He felt her scowl.

"I know you would have killed him," she said coldly. "And what would we have done next? You spent all of our money." He snarled at her, but he knew she was right. Damn, how he hated that!

"Get back to the inn," she ordered and he stopped short. The moving stream of pedestrians parted about him as he clenched his fists, his red eyes blazing.

"Don't EVER order me around!" he yelled at her.

"You're not a warlord anymore," she replied sternly. "So you better learn some self-control." He screamed in rage and ripped out his kitana, swinging wildly about, causing people to scatter with cries of alarm. Then he calmed himself down, shuddering at the effort, sheathed his sword and started back for the inn, his face thunderous.

"I don't know why I'm bothering to explain this to you," she continued, "but here goes: we owe the du Pays a great debt for taking us in."

"Allen's paying them," he sneered. He felt her shake her head.

"We have no idea if they came to that agreement," she replied. "I'm sure Allen offered; but who knows if Mr. du Pays accepted? In any case, that doesn't matter. They still took us in and we can't go about killing their son!" The walk was easing his anger; he unclenched his fingers from around his kitana hilt and strode along more freely. He gave a short sigh as the inn came into view.

"Life was a whole lot easier before," he growled. He felt her smile reluctantly.

"For me, too," she said softly. "Who would have thought I'd long for my suite again?" Dilandau sauntered up the path to the inn, then casually walked towards the back, following the canopied boardwalk that encircled the building. The private sitting room that Celena had requested lay near the rear, but that wasn't his goal just yet.

"Come on, Celena," he said coaxingly. "You hated being locked up! At least life's gotten more interesting."

"Indeed," she replied wryly. "Hey, where're you going?" she exclaimed as he stepped off the walk and, after checking that no one was about, entered the stables. Except for the horses and vehicles, the place was empty, and he quickly walked over to the du Pays carriage. He unbuckled his swordbelt and brandished the kitana before his eyes.

"How were you going to explain this little item to Philippe?" he asked sarcastically, then smiled as he felt her shocked silence.

"Yeah, I thought so," he smirked. "How about these new clothes? They aren't exactly your style." He opened the satchel, pulled out the old exercise outfit and quickly yanked off his clothes, boots and jewelry. He pulled on the cotton outfit and, folding up the diadem and necklace into the black cloth, pushed the bundle into the satchel, which already held a couple other outfits and some other necessities. Then he knelt and opened the storage cabinet that was secured to the back of the carriage. There was an old blanket and a coil of rope inside; he moved them aside, put the sword, boots and satchel on the bottom and arranged the blanket and rope on top of them.

"Guess you don't know everything after all," he said smugly as he closed the box and left the stables, heading for their rented room.

"I can't believe I let you buy a kitana," Celena growled as he opened the unlatched window, checked to confirm that the room was empty and vaulted lightly inside.

"Too late now," he smiled and dropped into the darkness.

* * *

The sun was setting as Celena descended from the carriage in the du Pays courtyard, forcing herself to smile her thanks to Philippe as she lightly held his hand. What she really wanted to do was slap that smug look off his face. It had been in place when he had returned to the hotel a good twenty minutes after them and had stayed on throughout the tour he had taken her of the museums and landmarks of the city. Oh, and let's not forget the constant monologue, she thought darkly as she went to her room to rest before supper. Philippe, Philippe and more about Philippe. How brave he was, how skilled he was at all manner of fighting, how he had faced down some sniveling coward - you should have been there, Celena! - in a store. She had had a really terrible time holding down Dilandau when that boasting had come up: she had seriously thought her head would explode from the strain. She sighed as she got out of her travel clothes and sank into a wonderfully cool bath.

"He's dead, I'm telling you," Dilandau snarled. "I can't wait to kill that bastard." She resolutely ignored him, closing her eyes and resting her head on the edge of the bathtub. He had been going on like this for most of the day - yet another monologue that she had had to deal with. At least her headache was easing away. Come to think of it, she wouldn't mind slapping both of these arrogant men who dominated her life. Celena smiled at the image, too tired to be shocked at her violent thoughts. It had been a long, stressful day. Luckily supper wasn't for another hour or two, so she could relax in this scented bath and listen to the windchimes that tinkled outside one of her room's large windows.

"What about my clothes?" he growled. She gave a small sound of impatience.

"We'll get them tonight. You can get out of one of my windows and to the stables without attracting the guards, right? I mean, you were this great warlord and all..."

"HEY!"

"I'm sorry," Celena said softly. "I've had a really long day and listening to the two of you didn't help." He snarled at her, then fell silent.

"It's all right," he said after a few minutes.

"Mm-hmm," she replied dryly.

"All right! I'm sorry! Are you happy now?!" he yelled at her and she sat up, surprised. The bath water lapped alarmingly close to one edge of the tub then settled down.

"What's wrong?" she asked. He gave a sound of disgust.

"What's wrong? What's WRONG!? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT'S WRONG: I'M GOING CRAZY!!" he screamed and she cried out as the headache slammed back into her. She clutched her head.

"Stop it!" she begged. "Please stop screaming!"

"Celena?" he asked, perplexed.

"Don't you realize the pain you cause me when you go off?" she wailed. "Please, please..."

"Hey, OK," he said gently. "Here I am, all calm now." The pain pulsed at her temples, slowly ebbing. Celena forced herself to relax, leaning back into the bath and dropping her hands to her sides. She sighed, listening to the windchimes for a few moments.

"Now, would you please tell me what's wrong?" she whispered. She felt him hesitate, then give a short sigh.

"I've got to get some time outside," he said slowly. "I need action, and I haven't gotten it in soooo long." Celena frowned.

"That's a bit of a problem," she cautiously replied, anticipating his furious response. But he remained silent. "Your actions tend to be destructive, to say the least," she continued. She thought for a moment, then smiled.

"I'll be resuming my riding and katas tomorrow," she said. "We can start there, OK?" She felt him smile.

"Ah, riding," he chuckled. "Kaze was something else, wasn't he? Remember the fence?"

"I remember the fire," she replied sourly.

"Relax, Celena," he drawled. "That's a great idea. I need to brush up on my swordwork anyway."

"Dilandau," she said warningly. He just laughed at her. Celena got out of the bath and dried off, still frowning. She knew she could rein him in if she needed to, but it took everything she had. But perhaps it would be all right. She was looking forward to getting outside on her own too. She smiled at the thought and went to her wardrobe to get something to wear to supper.

* * *

It took a lot of deferential persuasion, but she managed to get permission to do her riding alone the next day. She was given a map of the du Pays lands and quickly rode out to a far pasture that made up one corner of the estate.

"Ahhhhh," Celena sighed as she drew in a great breath; then dismounted her horse. She tied the reins to a large shrub and again drew in the fragrance of the meadow flowers. The sun was hiding behind the clouds, making the air a little chilly, but that was just fine. Celena doubted that even standing in a hard rain would ruin her mood right now. She laughed in delight and whirled about.

"Come on, come on, come on," Dilandau chanted impatiently. "Stop twirling and let me out." She felt him tug upon her and she stopped, smiling.

"Be patient, Dilandau," she said. "I still have to do my Tai Chi." He groaned.

"Give me a break," he snorted. "Why don't you learn a real discipline? Here, get my kitana." She raised an eyebrow then shrugged, went to the horse and untied the sword from its hiding place along the saddle. She carefully unsheathed it and dropped the scabbard next to the shrub. The blade gleamed dully in the light, the edge looking wickedly sharp. She held it awkwardly in front of her, both hands gripping the long hilt.

"It's so heavy!" she exclaimed and he laughed.

"Slide your hands closer to the guard and spread your feet a little," he said and she did so, getting a better balance.

"Is this right?" she asked worriedly.

"You look great," he replied seriously, then burst out laughing. "Bring 'em on!" he gasped and she snarled at him.

"This was your idea," she growled. "Now what?" He quieted down and she could feel his interest pick up.

"OK, the first movement is a step forward with your right foot, with a downward cut to the left," he said. She cautiously stepped forward and dropped the blade down.

"No, no, no," he snapped. "You cut down, not drop!" He gave a sharp sigh.

"All right," he continued. "Stay in that position and somehow manage to get your sword over, the edge facing left." Celena quelled her retort and did as he ordered, wondering just why she was doing this. But it was something new, and she felt a strange sort of connection with him that was different than what they usually had.

"Now," he growled, "Take the next step forward on your left foot, drop down a little and bring the blade up and to the right." She tried the move, but the kitana's weight was too much and she ended up twisting about and falling.

"YOU ARE SO PATHETIC!" he shouted. Celena sprang to her feet, leaving the sword in the grass, anger flushing her cheeks.

"Don't yell at me!" she shouted back. "I've never done this before!!"

"Isn't that the truth," he snorted. "I swear, I wouldn't have given you five seconds of my time if you had tried for the Dragonslayers, even if you'd been a man." He was silent for a moment.

"Here, let me show you," he said thoughtfully and she gratefully dropped into the darkness.

Dilandau unrolled the cuffs of the exercise outfit's sleeves and pants, then scooped up the kitana and held it out for her to see. The sun broke through the clouds, causing the sharp blade to glitter brightly. He slowly smiled, then came back to the business at hand.

"OK, look, see how I'm holding the hilt?" he asked and felt her nod. "You were close to this but it's important to note exactly how it should be done. You don't want to grip it with all your strength; just enough to control the blade. Now watch."

"Are you sure this wasn't some elaborate scheme to get out before I could do my Tai Chi?" she asked.

"Be still!" he ordered, his face set in concentration. "Think as if you had a troop of samurai attacking you. The first is to the left!" He stepped forward and slashed to the left.

"The next comes from the right!" He stepped and gracefully twisted about, the blade flashing as he brought it up and right.

"Now in front!" Dilandau could see the snarling soldier dying in a great gout of blood as he brought his kitana down and sliced him in two. He forgot about Celena, the meadow, everything but the imaginary battle, crying out as he killed one man after the other, his blood singing and his eyes blazing in excitement. He completed the kata and brought his kitana down, the point resting on the ground, his chest heaving for breath. Then he ran through the next, and the next, relishing in the exertion of his body; the straightforwardness of the exercise.

"Cel-leeeee-naaaaah." Dilandau stopped as he heard the faint cry. He flipped his sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes and knelt down into the grass, looking cautiously about. He made out a distant figure, then grinned as he recognized him.

"Philippe!" Celena exclaimed. "Oh, no! Dilandau, let me out!"

"Hang on," he whispered as the figure slowly drew near. He was on horseback, not in any real hurry. Dilandau studied him, suddenly bored. He had fought some of the best samurai of the Zaibach Empire during his training; some of the men he had killed had been swordmasters. This baka doesn't even wear his swordbelt correctly, Dilandau thought with a sneer. Why should I waste my time?

"I'm going to get to the horse and put the kitana back," he said to Celena. He glanced down at his soaked shirt and smirked.

"He should be impressed at how hard you've been practicing."

"Dilandau," she said, "You really amaze me sometimes."

"Well," he drawled, "sometimes I amaze myself."

* * *

"Pull harder!" Lady Isabella commanded as she watched Mary yank on Celena's corset laces. The maid set her feet and leaned back as the young woman cried out through gritted teeth.

"I...can't...breathe!" Celena gasped. Isabella crossed her arms and frowned.

"Quit being a baby," she said. "It's your own fault - all that exercising has given you muscles and it's too late to refit your dress." The noblewoman nodded to her maid and Mary twisted the laces about her hands and pulled again. Celena gave a very unladylike growl but hung onto her heavy wardrobe as the band cinched up another centimeter. Mary knotted the laces and stepped back with a sigh.

"That's as far as it will go, my lady," the maid said doubtfully. Isabella scowled.

"I guess it'll have to do. Let's pray it's enough." She didn't like the sullen look on her ward's face, but decided to ignore it for now. Isabella tapped her chin thoughtfully, wondering if she had done the right thing in letting the girl do such physical activities. The riding and Tai Chi had leaned down her pretty round arms and legs too much; she looked taller than ever. However, perhaps this would discourage any possible suitors she might meet at this party. Although Philippe still wouldn't give her an answer, she was confident that he would say yes. Celena had all the training and attributes to be an honorable addition to their family, barring that annoying streak of independence, and Isabella was sure she could work that out of her before it became a real problem.

"Sit down, Celena, and let Mary fix your hair," she said gently and the girl obeyed, dropping gracefully onto the seat before her vanity mirror, gasping a little and sitting up as straight as possible.

"This will be a great social event," Isabella announced importantly. "The Duke himself will be there." Celena gave a small sound of pain as Mary twisted her hair up and began to secure it on top of her head with an elaborate set of combs.

"I hope I can remember all you've taught me," she said. "I don't want to bring dishonor to your family." Isabella smiled and ran her hand gently down the girl's shoulder.

"You will do fine - you are a credit to your brother," she replied and Celena blushed and smiled. Mary stepped back and turned to get her gown: pale blue silk with cream lace edging the shoulders and wrists. The young woman stood and raised her arms; Mary got on the chair and carefully dropped the dress over her, avoiding the elaborate hairstyle. A little snug about the waist and shoulders, a little loose in the arms, but she still looked enchanting in it, Isabella thought with pride. She glanced out the windows and was surprised at how low the sun was.

"I've got to get ready," she said and frowned at her. "Don't move or you'll wrinkle the dress. And quiet your breathing! Come, Mary." Celena's pretty features settled again into sullenness but Isabella knew she would obey. The two women left the room and moved down the wooden corridor towards her own chambers.

"What do you think, Mary?" Isabella asked as she glanced at her maid. The older woman was looking thoughtfully at the floor as they walked along.

"There's something about her..." she stated quietly. "I've been keeping an eye on her, as you requested, and sometimes it seems she's conversing with someone who isn't there." Isabella stopped in surprise.

"What?" Mary nodded, stopping as well and looking at her.

"It's not all the time," she said. "Just every now and then she'll cock her head as if she were listening to someone, then mumble something." Isabella frowned, thinking it over, then smiled.

"Well, that doesn't sound too odd," she replied. "She's had a rather large upheaval in her life, what with moving to a strange country and having none of her family or friends about." She started walking again and Mary joined her.

"She's only been here a month," the noblewoman continued. "I'm sure she'll settle down. She's been doing extremely well with her training; I'll be writing Sir Allen soon about the possibility of wedding her to Philippe." Mary smiled.

"I can't believe he's so grown up!" she softly exclaimed and Isabella sighed.

"I just wish he'd grow up a little more," she replied. "Celena will be good for him."

"Do you think Sir Allen will approve?" Mary asked as they reached her rooms and slid open the paper doors. Isabella shrugged.

"He would've mentioned any betrothal arrangement he'd made for her when he was here," she answered. "And he will see the political advantage. I can't think of any reason why he wouldn't agree wholeheartedly to the match." Mary nodded, then helped her get ready for the party. She surveyed herself in the mirror with approval.

How well she conducts herself tonight should tell me for sure if she'll make a good wife for Philippe, she thought as she minutely adjusted her obi. She was confident that Celena would meet all her expectations.

* * *

Celena slowly climbed the hill of stairs leading to the mayor of Kaze- yama's palace, her hand on Philippe's arm, a respectful distance back from Mr. and Mrs. du Pays. It was a beautiful evening, a gentle breeze keeping the air cool and a cloudless sky showing countless stars. The staircase was decorated with fresh flowers and brightly burning torches; uniformed ushers awaited them at the top by the great double doors. She ignored it all, concentrating on getting to the top of the endless stairs without gasping, fainting or throwing up. The corset was seriously cutting off her diaphragm; she shot Philippe an envious look. Although his well-cut dark jacket and pants were close-fitting, they were nowhere near as constricting as her outfit, and she wanted to scream at the ease with which he was making the climb.

"Don't even think of asking me to come out while you're wearing that thing," Dilandau growled. "It'd cut me in two." Hmmmm, Celena thought darkly, there's an idea. Although he had surprised her by not attacking Philippe on the meadow, he hadn't gotten any better with his basic attitude, and she had enough to keep track of tonight without having to deal with him.

"Why don't you go meditate or something?" she snarled down at him and she felt him smirk.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," he replied. "You're feeling pretty faint. Hope you can make it to the top." Celena bit back her angry words and concentrated on breathing quietly. At least she was in good shape, thanks to the sword katas she insisted on learning, much to Dilandau's irritation. She loved Tai Chi, but the discipline wasn't making her body strong, and she felt the need to be physically stronger. They finally got to the top and were ushered through the doors to another staircase, this one descending into an enormous salon blazing with lights and filled with exotic plants and splashing fountains. A glittering array of well-dressed nobility moved below her, the strains of a chamber orchestra fighting the babble of multiple conversations. Celena gasped in wonder at it all. Dilandau and Philippe yawned in perfect sync. They slowly descended a short, wide staircase and merged with the throng. Celena looked round and round, fighting to keep her jaw from dropping, forgetting her corset entirely.

"Come on, Celena," Philippe muttered to her. "It's just a party." She looked at him to find him smirking down at her, and she immediately calmed. She really hated that look. Sighing inwardly, she smiled at him, murmuring an apology. The quartet came upon a long receiving line and the next quarter hour was taken up meeting the various important people of Kaze- yama and their wives. Celena knew all of their names and something of what each did in the city, thanks to the constant drilling Lady Isabella had given her. She looked gratefully at the noblewoman and found her smiling back at her, nodding slightly with approval. The mayor and his wife were the last in line, and Mr. du Pays stopped to have a little chat with him after the greetings were done. Philippe did a fast fade as soon as he was done kissing the mayor's wife's hand, leaving Lady Isabella and Celena on their own. The older woman was looking about, tapping her fan against her hand.

"My lady?" Celena asked, longing for a chance to sit down but doubting that one would appear. Her corset would only bite harder into her anyway.

"The Duke hasn't arrived yet," Lady Isabella said absently, then turned to her and smiled.

"What do you think of all this?" she asked, waving her hand about the room. Dilandau groaned, but Celena couldn't repress the instant smile curving her lips.

"It's amazing," she exclaimed softly. "Wonderful." Lady Isabella opened her mouth to reply but there was a sudden blare of horns at the entrance. Both women turned to see the Duke of Hamat with his retinue standing at the top of the staircase. He was a big man, dressed quite handsomely in the dark green Hamatian military uniform. Aside from the usual aides, a contingent of soldiers dressed in back uniforms with red-orange edging flanked him.

"Ah, the Red Copper Army is supplementing the Hamatian military," Dilandau said interestedly. "I was wondering who drew the short straw." Celena ignored him, watching as the group came down the stairs. One of the soldiers had caught her eye, the leader of the group by the look of the gold additions to his uniform and by how closely he stayed by the duke's side, his hand close to his kitana hilt. He was tall, about twenty-five, his handsome features and ice blue eyes framed with shoulder-length golden hair. The uniform became him very well, and Celena felt her cheeks burn when he happened to glance over and notice her stare. She dropped her gaze, then gasped as Lady Isabella took her arm and drew her to the end of the line. Mr. du Pays was still there and the two women were able to join him by the mayor and his wife. The duke and the blonde soldier had entered the receiving line, the soldier motioning to his men to wait for them at the other end.

"Celena-san," Lady Isabella whispered impatiently, "do you see Philippe anywhere? This is an opportunity not to be missed!" Celena looked about but didn't see him, so she studied the floor, trying not to look up and see where the soldier was in the line. Her heart was pounding and her breath was shorter than the corset would explain. Lady Isabella poked her in the ribs and she looked up into the warm brown eyes of the duke. She greeted him most humbly and he smiled warmly down at her. Then he moved away and she was curtseying to the blonde man, not daring to look up.

"May I present my ward, Lady Celena Schezar," she heard Lady Isabella say.

"Captain Schilling," answered a calm voice and a black-gloved hand gently took hers. She looked up into the ice blue eyes and stopped breathing.

"A pleasure, my lady," he said and brought her hand to his lips. Then he moved along to the duke's side as he rejoined his retinue a few meters away. Celena turned her head to watch him go, her hand pressed to her chest.

"Hello, Gaia to Celena," Dilandau laughed.

"Did you see him?" she breathed, not noticing Lady Isabella looking sharply at her.

"Yeah," he said mockingly. "Wow. Not really my type, though," he added thoughtfully. Celena shushed him and turned to the frowning noblewoman.

"Is something wrong?" she asked and Lady Isabella suddenly smiled.

"Nothing, my dear," she said gently. "Let's go find Philippe."

They found Philippe, after enough searching to convince Celena that he was playing hide-and-seek with them, by the chamber orchestra. He scowled as they came up to him, and the two well-dressed young men who were with him laughed. They looked her over appreciatively and she blushed. Lady Isabella frowned at them as they greeted her courteously.

"Joseph, Michael," she said shortly, "it's a pleasure to see you both, but would you mind leaving us with Philippe?"

"Of course, my lady," one of them drawled, his green eyes sparkling. Then both young men, after another look at Celena and grinning at Philippe, disappeared into the crowd.

"What, Mother?" Philippe said impatiently. Lady Isabella gave a short sigh.

"Why did you run away from me?" she demanded. "You missed being introduced to the Duke!" He rolled his eyes.

"Please," he sneered.

"Excuse me," a voice said gently behind her and Celena turned to find Captain Schilling standing there, looking down at her and smiling. Her heart began to pound as the conversation behind her faded to a murmur.

"Yes?" she answered, a little breathlessly. He gestured gracefully to the open area where couples were forming before the orchestra.

"Would you honor me with a dance?" he asked and held out his hand.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Dilandau remarked.

"Will you for ONCE, SHUT UP!!!" she screamed at him and felt his shocked surprise. He quickly became sullen but she ignored him, taking the captain's hand and letting him draw her out to the floor. He took her in his arms as the music began and they slowly waltzed about the floor, Celena feeling mesmerized by those ice blue eyes.

"You're very light on your feet," he murmured. "And very beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied. The music carried them along, and she wondered vaguely how Lady Isabella and Philippe were faring. The captain slowly drew her very close and she blushed, feeling suddenly confused, wanting to press closer but also to pull away. The room was suddenly very warm; she couldn't breathe. She gasped faintly and he stopped, putting his hand on her bare shoulder and gently guiding her to one of the open doors that led out to the garden beyond. They halted before the opening and Celena held out her arms to the cool night air, breathing as deeply as she could and enjoying the faint, scented breeze on her flushed cheeks. She looked up at him gratefully.

"Thank you," she whispered. He smiled down at her, his hand still resting on her shoulder, and she shivered at the look in his eyes. No man had ever looked at her that way...

"The evening is almost as beautiful as you are," he said softly, running his hand slowly down her shoulder, causing little thrills to run through her. Celena was suddenly extremely aware of how low cut her gown was, the lace showing off the curves of her breasts. She blushed again as he picked up her hand and kissed it; his lips warm on her fingers.

"Would you like to explore the garden?" he asked, still holding her hand.

"Say no," Dilandau ordered.

"No," she obediently replied, then gasped and snarled down at him. The man frowned slightly, then smiled again and let go of her hand. He looked into her eyes and she suddenly just wanted take his hand and run into the night- shadowed garden with him, for whatever reason...

He leaned down close to her ear and she shivered again as she felt his breath upon her skin. "I'm going to take a walk outside," he whispered. "Join me if you'd like." His lips brushed her ear, then he turned and strolled outside. Celena took a step forward.

"Stop," Dilandau snarled.

"Be quiet," she snarled back.

"What do you think he's going to do to you out there?" he asked and she hesitated. She hadn't thought about that; she really didn't know.

"He's an honorable man," she started but he cut her off with a snort of disgust.

"Give me a break, Celena," he said. "How can you be so naive? He doesn't want to walk with you; he wants to have sex with you." She drew herself up in shock, blushing furiously.

"What?" she exclaimed. Dilandau grunted impatiently.

"Hel-lo! I've done this a million times! You're bored, so you find the prettiest, stupidest-looking boy, well in this case, girl, in the place, dazzle them with your attention, then get them to a secluded spot and have some fun." Celena's mouth dropped open.

"You've done this?" she said doubtfully. He sighed.

"OK, Celena, one more time, just for you: I AM NOT A NICE PERSON!" She winced a little and scowled.

"I think you're just jealous," she said.

"WHAT?" he shouted.

"You don't think anyone could be attracted to me, and it's driving you nuts," she snapped. "Now quit yelling at me!" She felt him scowl, then turn his back on her.

"Fine," he said shortly. "It's your maidenhead." She gasped in outraged embarrassment, then looked uncertainly out into the night. The first shrubs of the garden were only a few meters away; he was waiting for her out there somewhere. She tossed her head and stepped over the threshold.

"My lady." Celena turned and was surprised to see another Zaibach soldier behind her. He was about her age and height, with flaming red hair, blue eyes and very freckled skin.

"Yes?" she asked, a touch impatiently. He bowed slightly, then nodded back to the orchestra.

"The Lady Isabella sent me to find you," he said stiffly. "She wants to talk to you." Celena scowled angrily at him.

"Talk about the calvary," Dilandau suddenly remarked, but didn't laugh. Celena thought it over, glaring at the soldier until he blushed. Then she sighed and stepped up to him. He offered his arm and she took it, casting one last glance into the dark garden. The captain was nowhere in sight, and an odd relief ran through her. The soldier brought her straight to the noblewoman, who frowned as she caught sight of them.

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "And who is this?" Celena jerked her gaze over to the soldier, but he had already disengaged his arm and was walking through the crowd without a backward look.

* * *

"Admit it, Celena: I was right," Dilandau said smugly as he rode their horse through the sparse meadow towards the nearby mountains. They were in the Takai Nature Preserve: one hundred acres of seclusion thanks to the du Pays estate on one side, the Eastern Sea on the other and the tall mountains bordering the sides. A couple days had passed since the party and it was the first time he had been able to come out . He grinned, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair as the horse broke into a canter.

"I don't want to talk about it," came the short reply. Dilandau laughed but decided to drop it. He had felt her shocked hurt when they had spied Captain Schilling waltzing with another young lady later in the evening; he thought it was amusing but really didn't feel like rubbing it in. Strange, he thought: he usually enjoyed needling her. And now he was actually looking forward to their next kitana lesson.

If Gatti could see me now, he thought sardonically. Teaching a woman how to swordfight! He felt a sudden stab of sorrow at the thought of his second-in-command and crushed it, bringing the horse to a gallop. They started up the steep incline of a foothill, and Dilandau stood a little in the stirrups, leaning forward as he urged the horse onwards.

"Hey, at least we'll get a chance to discover who your unknown champion is," he called down to her. "Lady Isabella is one sharp player, I have to admit." He felt her sigh.

"Yes," she agreed. "Only she could manage to get an invite from the mayor's wife while the Duke is staying with them." She was silent, thinking, and he concentrated on his riding, guiding the horse around boulders and gullies; finally cresting the foothill. He reined in and turned it about, surveying the landscape stretching out below him.

"Why do you suppose he did that?" she asked suddenly. Dilandau grinned: he simply couldn't resist the opening.

"Maybe he was worried about his captain ruining his reputation," he said thoughtfully, then winced as she gave an outraged scream.

"LET ME OUT!!" she howled and he laughed.

"My, my, Celena, what's gotten into you?" he smirked, then dropped into the darkness.

Celena squinted in the sudden glare of sunlight, then wrapped the reins about her hands and slapped them against the horse's neck, kicking it hard in the sides. It leapt into a gallop and charged down the hill as she grimly hung on, unmindful of the reckless speed. Celena bared her teeth to the wind, urging the horse to even greater speed.

"Uh, Celena?" Dilandau asked.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed at him. "Do you have any idea how SICK I am of constraints? All I do is what other people say, and I'M SICK OF IT!" They hit the meadow and streaked across the grass. The horse was lathered in sweat, its breath coming in great gasps, but she didn't care. She kept urging it forward, wanting it to run forever. Then it stepped into an unseen hole and went down.

"SHIT!" Dilandau yelled as she was launched into the air, having time for one startled cry before landing on her back a few meters away. The breath was driven from her body and her chest heaved painfully in a futile attempt to regain it. Panic clutched her: she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe!

"Calm down, calm down," Dilandau said. "Your wind will come back; you'll be OK." Celena lay still and after a few moments she was able to draw in a painful breath, then another. She stared up at the bright blue sky, hearing the horse get to its feet and slowly walk over to her. It nudged her face with its nose, then stepped back and started grazing. Celena ignored it, tears starting a slow course from her eyes.

"Oh, Dilandau," she whispered. "I'm tired of this life."

"How can you say that?" he replied softly. "Your life is just beginning, whereas mine..." He stopped. Celena watched a small cloud go by overhead, the sun warm upon her face.

"Take this body," she said abruptly.

"What?"

"Be free, at last. No one knows you in Kaze-yama; I don't want to live anymore."

"What you mean is that you don't want to deal with your life anymore," he snorted. "Grow up, Celena." She sat up, outraged, ignoring the painful protest of her body.

"You've got a lot of nerve, talking about growing up!" she shouted. He laughed.

"Women are soooo weak," he started but she cut him off.

"How dare you say that!?" she yelled. "You know what I have to go through every day!"

"Uh-huh," he said, bored. "Oh, no, I'm having tea with the Kobyashis today!" he gasped, "What'll I wear?" Celena slowly got her feet, her teeth clenched in anger. She walked over to the horse and pulled herself into the saddle, ignoring the pain.

"You don't deserve this body," she snarled. "You aren't strong enough." She felt his flash of fury, then he smiled.

"Let's get ready to visit the Duke."

* * *

Celena smiled, with some effort, at Philippe as he handed her out of the carriage in front of the mayor's palace. It was early evening; not surprising considering that they hadn't left the du Pays estate until late afternoon. Lady Isabella, for all her prowess with people, was a terrible organizer, and what should have taken a couple hours took most of the day. The jolting, hour-long journey finished the process of making them all exhausted and short-tempered.

Philippe was giving her that fixed stare again, and Celena decided that that was enough. She looked quickly about and saw that Mr. and Mrs. du Pays were being greeted by Mayor De Monde and his wife at the top of the stairs, out of hearing. She looked back at him and he smirked. Celena smiled.

"If you ever look at me like this again," she said sweetly, "I don't care where we are; I'll slap you off your feet." Philippe's jaw dropped as Dilandau gave a snort of laughter, then he scowled at her.

"I'd like to see you try, Celena," he growled softly and she immediately brought back her right hand. Philippe's eyes widened and he backed up a step, then flushed angrily. His hand went to his kitana hilt.

"Philippe! Celena! Don't dawdle!" Lady Isabella called down to them. They both started, then relaxed and turned towards her, smiling. Celena took Philippe's arm and they slowly ascended the stairs.

"Watch it, Celena," Philippe snarled quietly. "I can be pretty dangerous." Whatever, she thought, but kept a prudent silence as they came to the quartet at the top and went through the elaborate greetings. They were quickly settled into a suite of rooms on the ground floor of the palace. It appeared that the Duke and his retinue were taking up the regular guest suites on the top floor.

"I regret this inconvenience," Mrs. De Monde said softly as she and Lady Isabella settled themselves on cushions in her receiving room. Celena poured the cups of tea and carefully handed them out, head bowed respectfully.

"Completely understandable," Lady Isabella replied with a smile. "I couldn't imagine ousting the Duke!" The two women laughed quietly and Celena sank down onto a cushion, anticipating a long, tedious hour before supper. At least the tea was delicious, a perfect compliment to the incense coming from a nearby brazier.

"So, I'm gonna go out tonight," Dilandau announced.

"Oh, really?" she replied. "Anything planned?"

"I thought I'd burn down a few buildings, get into a couple fights and perhaps get laid," he said smugly. Celena laughed out loud, then blushed and dropped her head as the two women broke off from their conversation and looked at her in surprise.

"Forgive me," she said softly, then stood to refill their cups. Suddenly the paper doors slid open and the mayor popped his head in. The two women immediately stood and Celena stepped over to join them.

"My dear," the mayor said. "Could I interrupt you and Mrs. du Pays for a moment? There's a painting in here that I wanted to show the Duke."

"Of course, Husband," Mrs. De Monde answered softly and all three women backed up to the wall, bowing their heads slightly. The mayor smiled, then entered the room, followed by the Duke, Mr. du Pays, Captain Schilling and two of his soldiers, with Philippe nonchalantly bringing up the rear. Celena blushed as she saw the captain, then blushed harder as she recognized the redhaired soldier from the party. What did Dilandau call him, her champion? she thought as she covertly watched the group. They ignored the women, walking to the far wall to examine a large painting that covered most of it, the mayor explaining its history, the artist who painted it, the significance of the brushstrokes... Celena suppressed a yawn as she looked back at the floor. Normally she would be listening with interest, but it had been a long day.

"I'll be glad when I can get to bed tonight," she commented to Dilandau.

"Hey, Red's looking at you!" he said conspiratorially and she almost jerked her head up from its respectful position. He laughed and she snarled down at him, then cautiously looked over to the group. The redhaired soldier was looking at her, and he blushed and quickly looked away when he caught her eye. Celena looked from him to the captain, and her heart gave a little jump. She scowled, angry at herself for her reaction, then inwardly sighed and looked at the floor again. The mayor got done with his dissertation and the men filed out of the room. Philippe gave a soft snort as he passed by her and she raised her eyes. He started to smirk, then stopped as she lifted her head up and smiled. He glanced at his mother, then scowled and left. The older women waited until the doors shut, then went back to their cushions, Lady Isabella looking at Celena with a thoughtful frown while the young woman picked up the teapot and filled their cups.

After supper Mr. du Pays requested Celena to play some music for them, and she immediately acquiesced, humbled by the honor. She went to the pianoforte and began, very conscious of Captain Schilling's presence, although he had only given her a perfunctory greeting, smiling slightly as he had raised her hand to his lips. Kind of smugly, now that she thought of it. What a jerk, for all his good looks and lovely dancing ability. She touched the keys softly, as the piece she had selected was a gentle one, when what she really wanted to do was pound on them in frustration. Why did her heart have to quicken at the sight of him? It wasn't fair!

"Carefully, Celena," Dilandau drawled. "Or you'll disgrace the du Pays." Celena immediately relaxed her tightening muscles and concentrated on playing, the beautiful melody soothing her. The group was still chatting casually behind her, much to her relief. She finished the piece and suddenly started a much more forceful one, rolling through the intricate progressions with gusto, causing Dilandau to laugh at its inappropriateness. There was dead silence when she got done, and she blushed deeply, suddenly ashamed at her arrogance. What would the du Pays think?

"Marvelous, simply marvelous," the Duke said behind her. "Captain Schilling, you must allow Lieutenant Nishikawa to play with her sometime." Celena turned to find them all staring at her, Mr. du Pays grinning, Lady Isabella's shocked expression turning into a reluctant smile; Philippe looking bored. The blonde captain turned towards the redhaired soldier.

"Do you think your violin could keep up, Ikiru?" he asked with a laugh. The soldier blushed.

"Yes, sir," he replied shortly, looking at the captain. The Duke clapped his hands.

"Excellent," he exclaimed. "We'll have a concert in a few days. The two of you get together and work out some pieces." First Ikiru, then Celena thanked him humbly. Then the young noblewoman, after Lady Isabella nodded to her, turned back to the keys. The conversations resumed behind her as she began another soft song, but she barely heard them, her mind on the redhaired soldier.

* * *

Dilandau combed his hair back and settled the silver diadem onto his forehead, examining himself in the mirror. He was particularly proud of this outfit: a blood red jacket with black edging, matching gloves, black pants and boots. The silver didn't quite go with it, but Celena could always pick up some gold jewelry for him when she went shopping tomorrow. If he could convince her to, he thought suddenly, grinning as he remembered her little scene with Philippe. He hefted the allowance Lady Isabella had given Celena for this trip: not much, but enough for a bottle of wine or two. He checked on Celena: she was quickly falling into a deep sleep. Then he at looked himself in the mirror once again.

"Damn, I look good," he commented softly. Even the scar didn't bother him too much. It went better with this more mature face.

"Don't burn anything," she mumbled sleepily. "Don't kill anyone." He rolled his eyes.

"Relax, Celena," he said. "I'll be good. Well, sort of." But she was already fast asleep, and he smirked as he checked his image one last time. He snatched up his swordbelt and kitana and was soon free of the palace, heading for the downtown district. Let's see, he thought, rubbing his hands in anticipation, red eyes glowing, what to do first? He saw a dark little tavern and entered it, his hand resting casually on his swordhilt. There were only a few patrons scattered about, and he sauntered to a table and sat, his back against the wall. An elderly waiter instantly appeared.

"Your desire, sir?" he asked deferentially. Dilandau scowled at him: there must be hundreds of bars in this city and he has to pick the one with ugly old waiters?

"Give me a bottle of Akai red, 385," he snarled. The waiter bowed, disappeared, then reappeared with the bottle and a glass. He opened the bottle and filled the glass, then disappeared again. Dilandau drank, relishing the soft burn down his throat. The first wine he'd had in two years, and oh, how good it was! There was a slight commotion at the door and his eyes slid over to see Captain Schilling entering, a few of his soldiers in sight behind him. Dilandau looked thoughtfully away. He vaguely knew of the captain, since technically he and his slayers had been part of the Red Copper Army, but he doubted that the man would recognize him. The Dragonslayers had been a special forces unit; aside from the crew of the Vione, only the generals and their aides had ever seen them. He shrugged slightly and poured himself another glass.

"Hey, you." It was Philippe's voice; Dilandau inwardly snarled in irritation, then turned towards him. He was standing there, arms crossed; the captain and his soldiers were at the bar, ordering their drinks and ignoring them. Dilandau raised his eyebrows.

"Yes?"

"You feel ready to resume our conversation?" Philippe sneered and he shrugged dismissively.

"Why?" he asked and Philippe snarled, his hand going to his kitana hilt. Dilandau watched him, bored. Then Philippe straightened and laughed. At him. He felt a stab of fury. What would it hurt to teach this ass a lesson or two? He smirked.

"You look pretty brave with all your buddies so close," he said. Philippe looked back over his shoulder, scowling, and Dilandau rolled his eyes. What an absolute baka, he thought. I could kill him right now, since he's being so kind to offer me his neck. He drained his glass, really trying not to laugh. Philippe turned back to him and his cheeks reddened at the look on his face.

"Come with me, if you're man enough," he snarled and Dilandau jerked to his feet, red eyes blazing with instant rage. The two men left the bar without a word and Philippe led him a little distance to an open space at the end of an alley. Perfect, Dilandau thought as he looked about. He was calming down: really, how could he get into any kind of serious fighting mode? Look at who he was facing off with. He smiled cruelly as he watched Philippe draw his kitana, his motion a little awkward. Dilandau gracefully drew his own as the old, familiar excitement began to build within. It was time to play...

They stood staring at each other for a few moments, swords at the ready, then Philippe howled and charged him. Dilandau easily avoided the wild swing and stepped to one side, dropping his kitana to his side. Philippe snarled and came at him again. Dilandau laughed and leapt away, the blade whistling harmlessly by him. He led his gasping, cursing opponent around the clearing a few times, goading him with insults when he looked ready to stop. It was the best time he'd had in soooo long! And now it was time for it to get even better. Dilandau stopped and brought his sword up. Philippe stopped as well, suddenly wary, then shouted and charged forward. A simple twist of the blade disarmed him, then Dilandau sheathed his own sword with lightning speed and shoved him up against the wall. He beat Philippe's hand to the ornate dagger he wore on his belt and held it up before his eyes, fixing him against the grimy bricks with one arm across his chest.

"A pretty toy," Dilandau remarked, staring into his suddenly frightened eyes. "I'm surprised you had it sharpened." He could feel his blood pounding as he drew the dagger lightly down Philippe's cheek, almost but not quite cutting him. He continued down the side of his neck, turning the edge a little so a thin line of blood welled up after it.

"Please, please," Philippe whimpered, causing his excitement to grow greater. Then he heard steps in the alley. He snarled and glanced over, then smirked. It was that redhaired soldier, Ikiru? He brought the dagger up against Philippe's throat; the man cringed back against the wall, raising his chin.

"Stop," Ikiru ordered and Dilandau felt a stab of irritation. He stepped away from Philippe, who fell to his knees, grasping his throat, and turned to face the soldier. He hadn't moved from the alley entrance, but his hand was on his kitana hilt, ready to draw. Dilandau smiled with real pleasure: this could actually be a worthy opponent. He slid the dagger into his sword belt and kicked Philippe's sword away, just in case the cowering baka at his feet had any ideas of jumping him from behind. Then he drew his kitana.

"Play with me," he said softly. The soldier stared at him, blushing not moving, and he started to get annoyed.

"All right," he snapped, "leave us then." Ikiru shook his head, his hand still resting on his hilt.

"My comrades are within shouting distance," he stated quietly. "Go now or I'll call for them." Dilandau snorted, then kicked the kneeling figure before him. Philippe yelped and the soldier tensed.

"What do you care about this?" Dilandau asked.

"He's a guest of the house I'm staying at," Ikiru replied evenly. "He's under the protection of my commanding officer." Dilandau studied him, thinking it over, and the soldier's cheeks reddened again, the color almost washing out his numerous freckles. God, could this man blush any more often? he thought irritably. Then he gave a short growl and sheathed his sword. The complications involved in battling the Duke's military retinue were too great; he could just see Celena trying to explain away the inevitable wounds he would receive. He bent down and grabbed a fistful of Philippe's hair, yanking back his head with a snarl.

"You are one lucky bastard," he hissed at him as the man gasped, his hazel eyes rolling. Dilandau let go and straightened, then drew the dagger and dropped it at his feet. Ikiru didn't take his hand from his swordhilt, but he did move aside as Dilandau walked by him on his way out. There was no one else in the alley and he stepped out onto the street, quelling a sigh as he noted how low the moons were in the sky.

"Fun while it lasted," he thought with a smile, thinking about the redhaired soldier as he headed back for the palace.

* * *

"What?" Lady Isabella exclaimed as she glared at her son. He was glaring out of a window in her receiving room, arms crossed and lower lip pushed out.

"You heard me, Mother," he stated. "I won't marry her." It was a beautiful morning: birds singing outside the large windows; the soft sound of water splashing in a nearby fountain. Lady Isabella drew in a slow breath, listening to the sounds and calming her instant anger. She studied her son, frowning. He had gotten so unmanageable after the Great War - was she pushing him too hard? She knew that he resented the role of being the next head of their household, but his attitude perplexed and saddened her. It was such a great honor; couldn't he see the power he would wield? She suddenly thought of Luc and had to quell a stab of pain. He had been truly born for the role, but the du Pays needed a strong leader to survive in the whirlpool of Hamatian politics and the Great War had taken away her eldest son's chance in the arena. Was Philippe strong enough? Fearful doubt clutched at her, then she hardened her resolve. He needed a strong wife, she thought grimly, and Celena Schezar was proving to be the perfect answer. Well, almost perfect: she still had that slight attitude problem. Yet she was always correctly deferential and Lady Isabella would see to it that she would remain so, even after the marriage. But she was getting ahead of herself. She suppressed a sigh and walked over to her son. Philippe immediately moved over to the next window.

"What's wrong with Celena?" she asked softly. "She beautiful, graceful, accomplished. She's already made a favorable impression with the Duke..." Philippe shrugged and suddenly she just wanted to shake him. She stilled the impulse, her heart softening as she saw his face twist in frustration. He looked down at the window sill, his fists clenching.

"She's not respectful of me," he growled and she started in surprise.

"Not respectful?" He looked at her angrily, his cheeks reddening.

"It's true, Mother. Just yesterday she tried to provoke me into striking her. And did you see her look at me in Mrs. De Monde's receiving room?" Lady Isabella stepped back, shocked to the core. Celena? She felt a sharp anger at the girl, then calmed down. Despite her love for her baby, she had no illusions as to his personality. Actually, she was a little surprised that it had taken this long for her ward to snap back at him. Lady Isabella smiled: this just proved how perfect Celena was for him. Then she frowned. It was time to get tough, and she always hated having to make him do anything he didn't want to do.

"Philippe," she said in a no-nonsense tone, "you will marry Celena." He scowled and opened his mouth, but she looked at him sternly, one hand raised, and he closed it.

"Pay attention! She will be under your control as your wife; you can teach her respect for you then." She smiled gently and stepped forward. He didn't move this time, and she put a placating hand upon his shoulder.

"Celena has great talents; she will be an asset to running your household. I will help you keep her in line." Philippe glared at her, then suddenly his face smoothed out as he thought about it. He turned back to the window and leaned out; a gentle breeze ruffling his long hair. Lady Isabella stroked his shoulder.

"I know you didn't ask for what happened to Luc," she said softly and he snorted.

"The Great War sure didn't do me any favors," he snarled, straightening. He studied her, still thinking, then smiled. Lady Isabella smiled back, her heart full, ignoring the crafty look that now marred his handsome features.

"All right, Mother," he said smugly, then shook off her hand and left.

* * *

Celena ran through a few scales on the pianoforte, waiting for the lieutenant to show up for their first music session. Dilandau was asleep: he had announced that music bored him and he needed the rest. From what? she thought darkly but had decided not to ask. He had been pretty smug all through breakfast, making more than a few jibes at Philippe, but hadn't volunteered any information about his night out. Whatever. She made a mental rundown of her classical repertoire; luckily she knew the popular pieces from all of Gaia's great composers and she assumed that the soldier would as well. There should be a few that would please the Duke.

"Sorry I'm late," a voice said behind her and she turned to see Ikiru walk in and slide the paper doors shut. He sat down on the floor, took his violin out of its case and began to tune it. Celena studied him from her higher perch, curious about her would-be savior. His head was bent over the violin, the flaming red hair falling over his blue eyes, the countless freckles overshadowing his fine features and long fingers. He suddenly looked up at her and she blushed; his cheeks flushed in response. Celena was suddenly very angry that he had caught her staring; it was time to see how good he really was. She turned back to her keyboard.

"Do you know Ravielli's "Sonata in G"?" she asked shortly, picking out the hardest pianoforte/violin duet she knew. Ikiru picked up his bow and stood, his face stoic.

"Yes," he replied and she immediately launched into the piece. He must have anticipated her, for he started at the same time, not missing a beat. Celena ripped through it as fast as she could, inwardly snarling at the apparent ease with which he matched her. Who does he think he is, trying to control me at the party? she thought as they finished the piece. She instantly started the second-hardest one she knew and, after a few notes, he caught on and increased the pace. She inwardly snarled and focused her attention on the music. He's fast! She made it to the end without flaw and paused, waiting for what he would pick next. But the violin was silent. Celena turned to find him smiling at her.

"All out?" he asked softly and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Then she snapped it shut and glared at him. He blushed, of course, but didn't drop the smile.

"You must be," he said, "the best pianoforte player I've ever had the honor to play with." Celena blinked, a reluctant smile curving her lips.

"Well...well," she stammered. "Thank you, I guess." He looked at her thoughtfully.

"You're great with the fast pieces, but I wonder how you are with the slow ones. Those take a lot of emotional skill." He shrugged and she was instantly enraged.

"Oh, really?" she exclaimed. "Pick one out and we'll see, won't we?" He smiled again and began a very romantic Asturian ballad. Celena turned back to the keys and joined him, sighing at her own gullibility, then got lost in the beautiful music. She knew the piece as a solo one, but he immediately began to improvise around her playing, and she couldn't help but admire his skill. They finished the piece, the last notes lingering in the morning air, and she turned about again. He was standing still with his eyes closed, cradling the violin between his cheek and shoulder, and her breath caught at the raw emotion on his face. Then he opened his eyes and brought the violin down to his side, glancing over to the open windows.

"Looks like our hour's up," he said softly and she felt a stab of disappointment. Who are you? she thought as he knelt to put his violin and bow away.

"We'll meet here again tomorrow?" he asked, not looking at her. Why? she immediately thought, we obviously don't need to practice. But she said nothing, only nodded as he straightened, his case under his arm, and turned towards her. He stepped up and took her hand, his cheeks reddening as he brought it to his lips.

"My lady," he said, then let go and turned away.

"Why did you do it?" she asked suddenly and he stopped.

"I've seen my captain hurt too many young girls to satisfy his pleasure," he replied stiffly, then turned back towards her, his face blank.

"If you prefer, I won't stop you next time." Celena dropped her eyes to stare at the floor, not knowing what to say; how to react. She felt very foolish and embarrassed and guilty. She looked up at him.

"Forgive me, Lieutenant," she said softly, "I should be thanking you." He smiled slightly, his blue eyes suddenly warm.

"Call me Ikiru," he replied, then turned and left. Celena studied the closed doors, one hand resting on her cheek, then started as they slid open to reveal Mary. The maid smiled brightly.

"Lady Isabella and Mrs. De Monde are ready to go shopping, my lady," she said and Celena sprang to her feet. She followed Mary to the palace entrance, then waited for the two older women to join her. They did in a few minutes and soon they were off, headed for the market.

"Dilandau, wake up," Celena called down as she followed the two older women a proper distance behind them.

"What do you want?" he snarled sleepily.

"We're shopping; didn't you want to get some gold jewelry?" She felt him sit up, yawn and stretch.

"Yeah," he said. "God! What I wouldn't give for a cup of coffee! So, what have you got for me to see?" Celena frowned puzzledly.

"What's coffee?" He snorted.

"It's a Zaibach thing. Never mind. Hey, we're still on the street!"

"Um, sorry about that," she replied, blushing. Lady Isabella was glancing back at her, frowning, and she realized that she had lagged too far behind. She caught up with them just as they entered a fine clothing shop and Dilandau groaned.

"You woke me up for this?"

"Well, no, I just needed to ..." Celena stopped. Why did she wake him up? He suddenly chuckled.

"So, how was the music session?" he asked smugly.

"It went well enough," she answered shortly. "He's an excellent player; the Duke should be pleased."

"Really. Anything else?" Celena knelt on the cushion offered her by one of the shopkeepers and watched while Lady Isabella and the mayor's wife began to go over the inventory of gowns, hats, gloves and shoes. This will take a while, she thought with an inward sigh as she accepted a full cup of tea from a smiling young boy.

"I think you're wrong about him," she started but he cut her off.

"Please. I've seen that look in a man's eyes before. He's got this huge crush on you," he smirked and she scowled.

"I asked him about the party and he said he was only protecting yet another young girl from his captain," she snarled.

"Cel-leeee-naaaa!" Dilandau exclaimed, then started laughing. "You are too much! Were you expecting him to drop to his knees and declare his undying devotion to you? Give me a break!" She hissed at him to be quiet, but he only laughed again.

"Why did I wake you up?" she barked at him and the laughter stopped.

"My question exactly." Celena ignored him as she watched Mrs. De Monde model a beautiful cream colored hat with a red feather accent. Lady Isabella was frowning over a set of intricately embroidered shoes, a wizened shopkeeper hovering nearby.

"Of course," Dilandau added thoughtfully, "he could be suffering from a major mother hen complex. He did save Philippe last night, after all." Celena straightened with a jerk, almost spilling her tea. She took a quick gulp, thankful that it had cooled enough not to scald her mouth.

"What are you talking about?" she asked sternly and felt him smirk.

"Relax, Celena. I only played with Philippe for a little while. Ikiru got there just in time to stop any permanent damage." Dilandau paused.

"He wouldn't fight me though - strange. He holds himself like a true samurai; I bet he'd be a real challenge."

"Can we get back to the Philippe part?" Celena asked, outraged. "What did I tell you about our obligations to the du Pays?" She felt him scowl.

"I didn't kill him," he growled, then chuckled. "As the ass himself said: 'You should have been there, Celena!'" Celena gave a short sigh.

"Well, I'm glad you cleared up Ikiru's motives for me," she said coldly and he snorted.

"Come on, Celena. Don't get all schoolgirl on me." He laughed suddenly. "I dare you to put your tongue in his mouth tomorrow!"

"Dilandau!" she gasped aloud, then clapped her hand over her mouth, looking towards Lady Isabella and the mayor's wife. The two women were haggling with the shopkeepers and there was the bustle of wrapping and packaging going on, so they hadn't heard her. Thank goodness. She suddenly thought of what it would be like to be in Ikiru's arms, tilting her face up as he bent his head down to kiss her... She blushed furiously, staring down at her teacup and praying that no one was paying attention to her.

"Well, well, well," Dilandau drawled. "Aren't you all flustered."

"Be quiet!" she snarled at him and downed the rest of her tea. At last all the purchases were ready to be sent to the mayor's palace and they could go. Mrs. De Monde approached and looked at her kindly.

"Nothing here interested you, Celena-san?" she asked softly. Celena smiled and stood, inwardly sighing.

"I was hoping to find some jewelry," she replied deferentially, ignoring Dilandau's sudden smirk.

* * *

Ikiru slid open the paper doors to the music room and was not surprised to find it empty. He was very early, having traded some of his duty time with Lieutenant Uganda; he needed to warm up. There was a cold rain driving against the windows: a very depressing day, all in all. Ikiru took out his violin and tuned it quickly, then rosined his bow and began to play a sad song from his youth. Viole's favorite, he thought, or at least it had been... He suddenly stopped playing and sat down on the pianoforte bench, overwhelmed with sorrow, fighting the pain of the loss of his best friend and vainly praying that the deeper pain of Michiko wouldn't surface as well.

"Michiko," he whispered, unaware of the tears sliding down his face. She had been everything to him; a beautiful harpist he had met in his city's youth symphony when he had turned fifteen, just months from his joining the service. He had instantly fallen in love with her, her beautiful black hair, dark brown eyes and oh-so gentle demeanor. And her incredible love of music. Ikiru smiled a little at the memory of when he had first told Viole about her...

"She's incredible, wonderful! The girl I'm going to marry," Ikiru exclaimed. His friend looked up from the book he was reading. They were in Viole's study at his family's home in Kyishi, a Zaibach city that lay on the Hamatian border, killing some time before they were scheduled to take their first military tests.

"Does she know this?" Viole said with a smile. Ikiru stopped short, suddenly terrified of the thought of her refusal. He stared at his friend, his eyes wide.

"What if..." he gasped, then calmed himself down. "Of course she'll marry me! She's already said she loves me; what more proof do I need?" He flushed as he thought of what else she had done with him; after one practice in a secluded room in the orchestra hall, but he couldn't tell Viole about that. It was just between the two of them, a wonderful secret that he held close to his heart.

"She will marry me," he asserted. Viole put the book down, got up and came over to him. Caressing his cheek, he smiled gently.

"That's wonderful," he said. Ikiru smiled happily back, used to his friend's affectionate manner. Viole had told him a couple of years ago that he was yaoi, which Ikiru found interesting but not alarming, and their close friendship had remained pretty much the same. Viole studied him for a moment.

"How does she feel about your military term?" he asked suddenly. Ikiru looked at him, perplexed.

"I hadn't thought to ask," he said slowly. "It's only for a year; why should it matter?"

"This is an important part of your life," his friend answered quietly. "Part of your family tradition. You better let her know." Ikiru nodded, his face thoughtful...

He looked unseeingly out the music room's window, the rain running in narrow streams down the glass, his violin forgotten on his lap, helplessly caught up in his memories...

"Ikiru, I'm in," Viole announced excitedly as he entered their dorm. It was a couple months later; they had gone through all the tests and Ikiru had already learned of his assignment with a high-level company in the Red Copper Army.

"The most elite corps," his best friend continued. "The Dragonslayers!" Ikiru ignored him, staring blindly down at the note Michiko had left him. Beautiful, gentle Michiko: his future. He heard him sit down beside him on the floor, silent now, gently taking the note from his hand.

"Oh, no," Viole said quietly as he read:

My Ikiru. Although I love you more than life itself, I cannot marry a man of violence. Be well. Michiko.

"She never said a word," Ikiru said brokenly. "I told her months ago, and she never said a word." Tears filled his eyes as covered his face with his hands. He felt Viole's arm go about him and gently pull him close, resting his head on his shoulder. Ikiru's frame shook as he sobbed helplessly, while his friend stroked his hair and rocked him back and forth. Then Viole caressed his cheek, tilted his face up and softly kissed him. He pulled back, startled, his cheeks reddening.

"It's OK, Ikiru," Viole whispered. "Let me comfort you." Ikiru looked into his gentle, dark eyes, then reached over and pulled his mouth to his...

"Oh, Viole, I miss you so," he whispered, bowing his head, his mind shying away from the change his gentle friend had undergone after joining the Dragonslayers. A dark, violent change. He heard the paper doors slide open and he brusquely brushed the tears from his face with the back of one hand, then stood and turned about. Lady Celena stood in the doorway, a faint look of surprise on her delicate features at the sight of him, and he felt his heart leap, the blood rushing to his cheeks. She smiled shyly at him.

"Looks like I'm late today," she declared softly and he smiled. He stepped out of the way, backing up a few steps as she approached the bench and sat down.

"Please give me a few moments to warm up," she said, looking up at him with those large grey-blue eyes, and he nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. She turned back to the keyboard and Ikiru studied her while she played. What was it about her? She reminded him a little of both Michiko and Viole, yet not enough to explain his attraction to her. He'd been struck by her innocent beauty at the party; he simply couldn't let Captain Schilling have her. Ikiru's mouth twisted a little: his captain never had a problem getting who he wanted, and it had felt good to frustrate him for once. Watching her play after supper had been one revelation; experiencing her temper the next day another. Ikiru brought his violin up to his shoulder and turned away from her, lightly drawing his bow across the strings. Naiveté with spirit, beauty with intelligence, and an unknown quality about her that he sensed but didn't understand. But who was he kidding. He had learned that she was the sister of an Asturian knight as well as the ward of the Baron du Pays. And while his family owned a barony in Zaibach, he had given up his title when he'd decided to extend his military term into a career. That decision had hurt his parents, but without Michiko or Viole, what did he have to go back to? Ikiru pushed aside the returning sorrow and concentrated on his playing. There was no time to win her anyway: the du Pays were leaving Kaze-yama in a few days to return to their home, and the Duke would soon be returning to the capital city. It was for the best, really: he didn't think he could stand losing another lov...

"Ikiru?" He stopped playing with a jerk and turned around. Celena was standing right behind him and he felt an uncontrollable urge to drop the violin, take her in his arms and kiss her. For one terrible, wonderful moment he thought he actually had done it, then he realized he hadn't moved; she was still staring at him with some concern.

"Ikiru?" she asked again, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. He hurriedly stepped back, feeling his cheeks burn. She dropped her hand and frowned worriedly.

"Forgive me, but you don't look well," she said softly. He waved his hand impatiently.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, then smirked. "What would you like to compete at today?" She blushed, bowing her head, and he felt a stab of remorse. Then she lifted her head and looked at him coldly.

"We really don't need to practice, do we?" she asked sarcastically. "We're obviously both classically trained; just pick out what you'd like to play and that'll be fine with me." She turned on her heel and left the room before he had a chance to reply.

* * *

"Men are jerks," Celena snarled down at Dilandau as she stomped down the corridor, heading for her room.

"Well, duh," he replied smugly. "I was wondering when you'd catch on. And do you know what the best part is?"

"No, what?"

"We rule Gaia!" Celena stopped short with a gasp of fury and clutched her head. There had to be a way to get in there and catch him unawares, just so she could strangle him. But she couldn't do that, any more than he could really hurt her: they were one. I can dream, though, can't I? she thought grimly as he started laughing. She heard rapid steps upon the wooden floor and looked back to see Ikiru approaching. Oh, great. She scowled at him.

"My lady," he said as he stopped in front of her, "I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I was unforgivably rude." She stared coldly at him while he blushed, then suddenly it just seemed all so silly. She laughed aloud, surprising a reluctant smile from him.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize," she said, smiling. "I..." He took her in his arms and kissed her. Celena froze in shock, then her eyes closed and she put her arms about his neck, pulling him tightly against her, overwhelmed by the sudden sensations running through her body.

"Wow. You go, girl," Dilandau smirked, then fell blessedly silent. Ikiru freed her mouth and kissed her neck; Celena tilted her head to one side, lost in the touch of his lips on her skin. Suddenly common sense slammed into her and she realized that she knew nothing about this man; that she was standing in an open corridor of the mayor of Kaze-yama's palace in a compromising position, to say the least. She gasped and pulled away, fighting the impulse to press herself against him again, to kiss him... Ikiru immediately let her go and stepped back, looking a little shocked himself.

"I, I'm so sorry," he gasped, his face flaming. He bowed his head for a moment, quieting his breath, then straightened and looked at her, a strange mix of emotions crossing his freckled features. Celena stared back, thankful for the support of the wall she was now pressed up against, trying to control her pounding heart. His face settled into a look of concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly and she took a step away from the wall, raising her chin.

"I'm fine," she replied, a little too firmly. "The concert for the Duke is tomorrow night; why don't you give me your list then?" Ikiru nodded stiffly, saying nothing while she turned and started down the corridor.

"Celena." She stopped, shocked at his use of her first name, and turned about to find him smiling at her. He bowed slightly, then turned and left. She watched until he was out of sight, trying to suppress the memory of his mouth on hers, their bodies pressed together... She blushed, then turned about and continued along her way.

"Smooth," Dilandau commented dryly.

"Be quiet," she muttered. "You know how inappropriate that was. I suppose you had a better solution?"

"I would have taken him." Celena gasped in outrage.

"You really have no use for obligations, propriety, or the concept of shame, do you?" she growled at him.

"I sure don't," he replied smugly. "And let's not forget I'm a man, too." She burst out laughing, just as she reached the open doors to Mrs. De Monde's receiving room. The mayor's wife and Lady Isabella were inside, having tea, and both women looked at her in surprise. Celena bowed deeply, blushing.

"Forgive me," she murmured and they smiled. Mrs. De Monde beckoned her inside and Celena sank down onto the cushion offered her.

"How are the music sessions with Lieutenant Nishikawa going?" Lady Isabella asked and frowned as Celena blushed again.

"Quite well, Lady Isabella, thank you," she replied softly, filling an empty tea cup then taking a sip. "It's truly a great honor to play with him; he's very good."

"Yeah, and his violin's not bad either," Dilandau smirked and she growled down at him.

"I'm looking forward to hearing you both perform," Mrs. De Monde exclaimed softly, and Celena smiled shyly at her. The mayor's wife looked brightly at her for a moment, then reached over and patted her hand.

"Lady Isabella has given me the most wonderful news: you must be very excited!" Celena looked at her a little puzzledly, then turned towards her benefactress.

"You and Philippe are to wed," Lady Isabella said with a warm smile.

"What?" Celena and Dilandau gasped together. Marry Philippe? A wave of panic instantly engulfed her. Both women were beaming at her now, and she opened her mouth to protest...

"Shut up," Dilandau ordered and she closed her mouth with a snap. "Just smile and nod," he continued tersely. Celena smiled and nodded, holding her teacup tightly to keep her hands from shaking. The crushing weight of responsibility dropped upon her and she wanted to run, but where to?

"What are we going to do?" she cried down to him.

"We're gonna play it cool," he growled. "Relax! Nothing's gonna happen right now." Celena tried to calm down, smilingly refusing the offer of a biscuit from Lady Isabella. The older woman was studying her closely, judging her reaction to the news, and she seemed satisfied with what she saw. Celena bowed her head deferentially, sweat breaking out on her brow, as the two women began to talk softly about preparations.

"Surely she hasn't written Allen about this," she whispered hysterically to Dilandau.

"You think?" he asked sarcastically. "Celena, try to relax. Really." She felt the panic overwhelming her and fought it, shaking. Allen! she cried inside. Help me! Save me! Suddenly she was icy cold and the room whirled crazily, then all she heard was Dilandau calling her name as everything went dark.

* * *

Someone was slapping her, not so lightly, and Celena's eyes flew open. It was Dilandau; he was raising his hand for another blow.

"STOP IT!" she cried and jerked away from him. She was laying on his futon in their room; both her cheeks were stinging. He grasped her shoulders in a painful grip and she saw that the red eyes were enormous with terror, the pale face deadly white.

"You left me alone," he said wildly. "For one hour and forty-five minutes you left me alone!" Celena gaped at him, speechless with shock, then she gasped as he clutched her to him with a strength that robbed her of breath.

"Let...go!" she gasped, pushing vainly against him. She heaved in a great breath.

"DILANDAU!" she shouted, "LET GO!" He shoved her away and sat back as she gulped for air. She put one hand up to her cheek, touching it gently and wincing in pain while she glared at him. He glared back, rage replacing the terror in his eyes.

"Don't EVER do that again," he angrily ordered. She looked at him incredulously.

"Do what? Faint?" she asked. "What's the matter with you? I was right here!" He crossed him arms and looked away.

"I couldn't sense you," he muttered. "You were here, but you weren't. Just don't do it again." Why do I insist on reason from this maniac? Celena thought darkly, quelling her sarcastic reply. Her cheeks still stung and she felt a surge of anger.

"You've been slapping me for an hour and forty-five minutes?" she shouted. He looked back at her and scowled.

"No," he snarled. "Just the last few seconds. I couldn't take it anymore." He drew his knees up and wrapped him arms about his legs, shivering. Celena put a hand on his arm and his shaking stilled.

"Dilandau," she said softly, "you've got to be stronger than that." He looked at her coldly.

"You just better pray it doesn't happen to you," he growled. "It's a hundred times worse than it was back on that stone floor." She sat back, looking at him. Now that she thought of it, her awareness of him had become an intregal part of herself. She was literally unable to think of what it would be like lose that, even for a moment.

"What's happening to us?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Who cares? Let's figure out what to do about Lady Isabella's happy news." Celena felt a faint rise of panic, but she crushed it. One step at a time, she thought. She listened, hearing the soft tick of a wall clock and recognizing the splashing fountain that stood outside between her bedroom and Lady Isabella's receiving room.

"They brought me to my room." He grinned.

"You made quite a scene when you fell backwards onto the floor. That's all I can remember, though; after that I was too preoccupied to know what was going on." He shuddered. Celena's cheeks burned in sudden shame.

"Oh, poor Lady Isabella!" she gasped. "She must be so embarrassed!" Dilandau rolled his eyes.

"OK, she's the one who's decided that we're gonna marry the ass, remember?" he asked sarcastically. "Relax, Celena: she'll live." She frowned, then sighed, thinking.

"We've got to tell Allen," she said. "He would never knowingly give his consent, but we can't be sure Lady Isabella will tell him before it happens."

"I think we should just take off," he growled.

"To where?" she asked shortly.

"To anywhere," he snapped back. Celena waved her hand impatiently.

"Will you for once in your life get it in your thick skull that it's not that simple?" she snarled. "We have no money, no one to appeal to but Allen and he's at least three weeks away by airship. Not to mention how dishonorable it would be to Mr. du Pays." She stood and paced back and forth. Dilandau stood as well, crossing his arms and watching her, a sullen look on his face.

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't measure up as a problem-solver," he sulked. "If you want to invade a country or burn a city, I'm your man. I didn't have to think about anything else." You actually think? she inwardly snarled, but didn't bother to reply. What to do, what to do? She stopped as an idea struck her.

"We've got to convince Lady Isabella that Philippe shouldn't marry me," she said triumphantly. Dilandau raised his eyebrows.

"How?"

"I don't know yet," she replied thoughtfully, "but engagements last for months: we've got time. We need to get a letter to Allen as well. But how without anyone knowing about it?" Dilandau smiled.

"That's easy," he replied. "Have Ikiru do it." Celena looked at him in shock.

"Ikiru?" she asked. "I won't see him until the concert tomorrow night, then we're heading back to the du Pays estate the next morning."

"You'll see him tomorrow morning when you go practice. Trust me, he won't stay away." She looked at him skeptically, but he just stared back, smirking.

"All right," she agreed doubtfully. "If he does show up I'll ask him if he'll send a letter to Allen." Brother, she thought despairingly, save me! But Celena knew that he was out of reach, and the only person she had for help was Dilandau. Great, she thought as she studied him, then she remembered how he had acted before she blacked out. She reached over and took his hand.

"Thank you for keeping me together," she said softly and he looked at her in surprise, then his face relaxed into one of his beautiful, genuine smiles. But only for a moment; the pale features twisted back into the familiar smirk.

"Well," he drawled, "I could just see them locking you up after you went into hysterics, and I do want to get out tonight." He gently pulled his hand from hers and gestured upwards.

"Why don't you go on up and convince everyone that you're OK?" he suggested. "Poor Lady Isabella must be terribly worried about her future daughter-in-law."

* * *

Ikiru leaned against a tree outside of the mayor's palace, gazing thoughtfully at the large windows that were set in Celena's bedroom. It was stupid, he knew: he was acting more like a thirteen-year-old boy than an eighteen-year-old man, but when he'd learned that she'd fallen ill, he had come running out here, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and know she was all right. Propriety forbade any closer contact; he couldn't even be so open as to ask a servant about her health. He glanced to the east: the moons were just past full; their pale light gilding the gardens about the palace with silver. Ikiru was glad for the deep shadows that hid him: he could just imagine the repercussions of being discovered here at this time of night. His thoughts slid helplessly to their embrace in the corridor; he was getting aroused at the memory of her soft lips, the taste of her skin... He had felt her pulse beating wildly under his lips, her warm body pressing against him, and he'd been ready to scoop her up, carry her back to the music room, lock the doors and damn the consequences. Ikiru groaned and forced his body to calm down. She had been right in pulling away: this was neither the time nor the place for a quick tumble. And he wanted to have so much more than that with her. He sighed, then smiled as he thought of her; that wonderful mixture of gentleness and fire. He'd find a way to win her. Hamat was a small duchy, after all; even the capital city was only a day's ride from Kaze-yama. But was she all right? He looked worriedly at the windows: the wooden slats were drawn, as they had been from the time he had come here. She must be fine, he thought a little desperately, there was no call for a doctor and no undue change in the palace's routine. Ikiru ground his teeth in frustration, then conceded defeat and stayed where he was. Perhaps she would come to one of the windows and open it, looking for some fresh air. Ikiru, you're a baka, he thought angrily, but he stayed under the tree, his eyes locked on the windows.

The moons were high overhead when he saw the slats being pushed aside. Ikiru straightened, hope rising in his heart, then he stepped further back into the shadows, surprise etched on his freckled face. There was a man leaning cautiously out of the window, the same man who had been fighting Philippe du Pays the other night in that dark alley. A very unusual- looking person; Ikiru felt a rise of uneasy anger as he remembered the letters Viole had written him. Could it be? The man vaulted lightly through the window, a sheathed kitana in his hand, landing gracefully onto the lawn. He buckled on his swordbelt and started walking towards the palace entrance, which lay behind the very tree he was standing under. The light of the moons picked out his features in stark relief, and Ikiru gasped in sudden fury as he caught the tell-tale scar along the right side of his face. It was him! His best friend's commanding officer; the one who had turned the gentle lover he'd known into a methodical killer, interested only in destruction. Ikiru drew his kitana and stepped out from under the tree, snarling. The man stopped, surprised, then slowly smiled.

"This is so precious," he drawled. "I can't wait to tell Celena!" Ikiru's mind whirled as he suddenly remembered where he'd just come from. What was the connection?

"Have you hurt her!?" he demanded. The silver eyebrows rose.

"Noooo; why would I?" he asked, then stared at him thoughtfully. He still hadn't drawn his sword, but Ikiru wasn't taking any chances.

"How do you know her?" he asked harshly. "Are you lovers?" The silverhaired man laughed in surprise, the great red eyes glowing.

"No," he replied, still laughing, "but if I had any interest in her, I'd have done a damn sight better than your lame-ass seduction in the corridor." Ikiru felt the blood rush to his cheeks as rage threatened to overwhelm him. How did he know about that? The man crossed his arms, smirking at him, and he suddenly calmed down and brought his sword up.

"I know who you are," he snarled, "Dilandau Albatou." The man dropped the smirk and the red eyes went deadly cold. Ikiru felt his hatred rise as he stared at him. "You turned my best friend into a monster," he growled. Dilandau cocked his head to one side, looking nonchalant, but his body had tensed into battle-readiness.

"And who might that be?" he asked.

"Viole. Viole Adante," Ikiru burst out, almost as a sob. Viole! his heart cried out, then the fury and hatred surged back as he watched the man give him a slow, knowing smile.

"Oh, that kind of friend," he said softly as the soldier blushed. "Ah, Viole," he continued with relish. "He started out soft, but I soon brought out his true nature." Ikiru brought his sword up and back with a snarl.

"You killed him." The red eyes suddenly blazed in fury and Dilandau drew his kitana with a fluid motion that warned Ikiru he was in for a real fight.

"He died in battle," the man snarled.

"You destroyed his soul!" Ikiru hissed, ready for his charge. But Dilandau suddenly straightened and casually rested his kitana on his shoulder, edge up, his lips twisting back into the smirk.

"What's the matter, Ikiru?" he asked, his eyes glittering. "Was he getting a little too rough with you in bed?" Ikiru screamed in rage and charged him, uncaring of who saw or heard. Dilandau brought his kitana down and over at the last moment and blocked the blow, twisting the blade around to strike back at him. Ikiru blocked it and leapt back; Dilandau lunged forward, his sword a blur of steel as it came for him. Ikiru managed to parry his attack and stepped back again, turning a little so that he could get a cut in from the side. But to no avail: Dilandau twisted gracefully and easily blocked his swing, then he slapped his hands with the sword, the edge cutting his knuckles, and his kitana went spinning off into the grass. Dilandau jumped on him then, knocking him to the ground and landing on top of him, straddling his middle. The kitana's razor sharp edge was put against his throat as both of them gasped for breath.

"You're good," Dilandau panted, "but only one man has ever been able to beat me; and you're not him." Ikiru glared up at him, his breath whistling through his clenched teeth, furious at himself for his defeat. Then Dilandau slowly bent down until his face was only a few centimeters above his, and Ikiru was astonished to find his heart speeding up. What the hell?!? he thought incoherently as he stared into the great red eyes.

"It would be a real pleasure to tame you, Ikiru," Dilandau said softly, "but I've got other plans for tonight." He smiled as he studied him, then straightened back up. "Don't tell anyone about me, or Celena will suffer," he added. Celena! Ikiru gasped in fearful rage, the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Is that a threat?" he shouted. "If you hurt her..." Dilandau snarled in sudden fury and he felt the blade push against his throat, blood slowly coursing down his neck. He fell silent and watched as the pale features grew deadly serious.

"It's not a threat," Dilandau said quietly. "It's reality. Test it if you'd like, but she will pay the price." Ikiru stared at him, thinking it over. The man didn't look like he was lying: his face had gone soft with concern, the great eyes hooded.

"All right," Ikiru said and the look vanished, replaced with that smirk. Dilandau suddenly lay his kitana flat across his chest, took his face in his hands and kissed him, sliding his tongue into his mouth as he gasped in surprise. Ikiru responded helplessly, inexplicable desire surging through him as his own hands came up and caressed his thighs. He felt a stab of disappointment when Dilandau broke the kiss and straightened, grinning as he noted his newly-flushed cheeks.

"Now, be a good little soldier and run back to your room," he said, grabbing his sword and getting lightly off him. "Look at how much time you've made me waste," he sighed, glancing up at the moons, then he was gone, leaving Ikiru staring up at the stars, vainly trying to comprehend his whirling thoughts.

* * *

Celena woke to fresh morning air and smiled as she sat up. Sharp pain flared down her back and she let out a squawk, then sighed.

"Someone had an interesting night," she muttered and carefully got up from her futon, gritting her teeth from the pain. She made it to her vanity and sat down, picking up her hairbrush and running through her curls. Then she stopped and looked at her right forearm in the mirror: there was a tender pink mark running from her wrist to about halfway to her elbow. A burn mark. She slammed the brush down onto the vanity, ignoring the flare of pain in her back.

"Dilandau!" she shouted down at him.

"Morning, Celena," he yawned. "Whoops," he added, "looks like you've found it." Celena clutched her head, trying to control her rage.

"What did I tell you about burning!?" she snarled. He chuckled.

"Whoops," he said again. "Relax, Celena," he continued smugly. "No one died. No one even got hurt, surprisingly." She ground her teeth, then forced herself to relax.

"I guess that's an improvement," she muttered. "Are you going to go all pyro now?" she asked, a little thrill of terror running through her. He was silent for a moment, thinking.

"I don't think so," he said slowly. "But oh, did it feel good." I am not having this conversation, Celena thought determinedly. I'm still asleep, dreaming. Her hand brushed the burn mark and she yelped in pain, jerking about, then yelped again as the movement caused her back to speak up as well. She carefully straightened, wincing a little.

"You must be losing your touch to actually get burned," she commented dryly and felt him scowl.

"I'm used to an Alseides flame-thrower," he growled. "I had to improvise."

"And the back strain?"

"You'd be amazed at how fast a burning building collapses."

"Do I want to know exactly what you did last night?"

"Ignorance can be bliss." Celena sighed and picked up the brush, mindful of her back as she started to brush her hair again.

"Anything else I should know about?" she asked sourly.

"Yeah, there is," he replied grimly. "Ikiru caught me coming out of our room last night." She froze in shock.

"WHAT?"

"He also knows who I am, and that we're connected, but not exactly how," he continued. Celena jerked to her feet, instantly panicked. RUN! her mind screamed.

"Calm down!" Dilandau shouted at her. "He's not gonna tell anyone!" She backed up into a corner, panting for breath, eyes glued to the paper doors of her room. She actually saw armored soldiers bursting through the doors, kitanas drawn, then her vision cleared and the room was empty. Celena slid to the floor, clutching the brush to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart.

"Guess this wouldn't be the best time to tell you that I really turned him on," Dilandau said and she started laughing. I don't need to think of how to cancel the wedding, she thought hysterically, tears flowing down her cheeks, Lady Isabella will soon be convinced that I'm insane. She could just see the look on the noblewoman's face, and she suddenly smiled at the thought, feeling her heart slow to its normal pulse, then stood and unclenched her fingers from around the brush handle, putting it on the vanity. Walking over to one of the windows, she pushed aside the slats and opened it all the way, breathing in the dew-laden air, listening to the birdsong and the gentle splashing of the nearby fountain. The sights and sounds soothed her; she gently wiped her tears away and took another deep breath.

"There," Dilandau announced suddenly. "He was standing under the maple that's a little to your right." Celena looked over to the tree, her brow knotting.

"What was he doing?" she asked.

"Hel-lo!" he answered impatiently. "He was trying to find out if you were all right. Rather nice, in a stupid sort of way." Celena sighed.

"You know, Dilandau," she said, "you can be a real pain in the ass." She felt his shocked silence, then he laughed.

"Celena!" he exclaimed admiringly. "I can't believe you just said that!" She smiled wryly, then walked over to the washstand and filled the ceramic basin with cool water from the matching pitcher. Coiling her hair up on her head, she took a washcloth and soaked it in the water.

"Now, let me see if I have this straight," she said as she washed her face and arms, wincing a little as the cloth brushed the burn. "Ikiru knows who you are and about us, sort of, but he's not going to let anyone know."

"And?" he said tauntingly.

"And you turn him on," she replied with a touch of exasperation. She felt a faint stab of jealousy, but she wasn't really surprised: they were one person, after all. It was probably for the best, in any case; she had way too much on her plate to think about any romantic involvements. Especially with someone she would never see after this evening. She suddenly thought of their duets in the music room, the beautiful melodies; that wonderful embrace... She shivered. Resolutely she pushed the memories away: she had to focus on the problems at hand.

"How do we know he'll keep his word?" she asked. Dilandau snorted.

"The man practically oozes honor," he said condescendingly. "Do you honestly think I would've let him live if he didn't?" He started to say something more, then stopped. Celena dried herself off and slipped out of her nightgown. She went over to the wardrobe and pulled on some underwear, cinching up her corset with practiced ease and buttoning on layer after layer of petticoats. She found a gown she particularly liked, a pale pink satin with embroidered roses, and put that on. The sleeves only went to the elbow; she'd have to be careful about concealing the mark.

"Do you think he'll send the letter?" she asked as she went back to her vanity. She took down her hair, brushed it out and, for something different, made one long braid, fighting the curls that threatened to spring out from the plait.

"I think he'd do damn near anything for you, Celena," Dilandau said smugly. She felt her heart give a little leap, then she frowned. Focus, focus.

"Indeed," she replied, then got up and headed for the dining room.

* * *

Lady Isabella watched her closely as they all sat for breakfast, and Celena couldn't blame her, what with her outbursts of laughter and yesterday's fainting. She was horribly ashamed at how undisciplined she'd become lately; what an embarrassment she must be to the du Pays! Not that she didn't have good reasons to be, but she should be able to control herself better than this. Well, she thought as she nibbled on a muffin, that will change today.

Celena bent her head, listening to Lady Isabella conversing with Mrs. De Monde. Although the mayor's wife had been extremely kind and concerned about her after her fainting spell, Celena was afraid that she might be reaching the end of her patience with her. But perhaps she was overreacting? She looked shyly over at Mrs. De Monde; the older woman caught her glance and turned towards her with a smile.

"I'm so glad you're feeling better, Celena-san," she said softly. Celena smiled and briefly bowed her head.

"Forgive me for my behavior," she replied. "I don't mean to be a burden." Mrs. du Pays looked at her with approval as the mayor's wife tinkled sudden laughter.

"It's quite all right, my dear," she quietly exclaimed. "Mrs. du Pays has kindly told me of your situation. You're a long way from your old home, but I'm sure you'll find Hamat much to your liking." Celena smiled and bobbed her head again as the two women went back to their conversation. The men were ignoring them, of course: the mayor, the Duke, Captain Schilling and Mr. du Pays were deep in some military debates; Philippe was concentrating on eating.

"Are you done chattering?" Dilandau snarled. "I'm trying to listen to something of interest." Celena ignored him and took a sip of tea, feeling better than she had for quite awhile. I've let Dilandau provoke me far too much, she thought, and I think I'll change that too.

After breakfast she went back to her room and quickly wrote her letter to Allen, briefly describing the wedding proposal and trying not to sound too panicked. She blotted the paper, rolled it up and sealed it with some wax, carefully writing her brother's address on the outside. Then she hurried to the music room, worry quickening her steps. Her practice time was scheduled right after breakfast - what if he had come and figured she'd decided to skip it? But she heard the soft strains of a violin as she neared the paper doors and relief flooded through her.

"Proven right, as usual," Dilandau said smugly. Celena stopped before the closed doors, suddenly clutching the scroll to her breast, her heart pounding. I will not be distracted! she thought determinedly and forced herself to relax.

"I'd like a little privacy, please," she said to him. He laughed at her.

"I mean it, Dilandau," she said quietly. "You're exhausted; I can tell. Go to sleep."

"Careful, Celena," he growled, then suddenly yawned. "I've been holding that in for awhile," he commented with a smirk, "but I can't fool you, can I?"

"Dilandau..."

"All right, all right, give me a moment." Celena waited patiently and he was out, instantly. Wouldn't that be a nice trick to learn, she thought enviously, then drew in a deep breath and put her hand on one of the door handles.

"OK," she said quietly and slid open the door.

* * *

Ikiru heard the door slide open and he stopped playing, the blood rushing to his cheeks. He turned and there she was in the opening, looking solemnly at him, a scroll in one slender hand, and he felt overwhelmed with guilt. It must be written all over my face, he thought hopelessly, she must know! Ikiru hadn't slept a wink after staggering back to his room the night before, his mind a confused mess. Celena, Dilandau... he couldn't understand any of it.

"Oh, Celena," he groaned, collapsing onto the pianoforte bench, laying his violin and bow beside him. She darted to his side, concern darkening her grey-blue eyes.

"Are you all right?" she asked fearfully, dropping the scroll onto the pianoforte and putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked helplessly up at her.

"I don't know," he replied. "Last night..." She suddenly smiled and gently put her fingers on his lips. They felt so wonderfully cool; he closed his eyes, a calmness flooding over him.

"I think that's between you and Dilandau," she said softly and his eyes flew open; his cheeks flushing again. He pulled her hand from his mouth and stood.

"I'd like to talk to you about him," he said quietly, still holding her hand. Dread filled her large eyes.

"I can't," she replied. She tried to pull her hand away but he didn't let go. She stopped pulling and suddenly glared at him.

"Please," he said. She bent her head and gazed at the floor for a few moments, then sighed and raised it again, weary resignation on her delicate features. He felt a stab of sorrow for having to make her do this, to make her do anything she didn't want to. But he had to know.

"We're one," she stated softly, staring calmly into his eyes.

"One?"

"The same person." He shook his head, confused.

"It's simple, really," she added. "We inhabit the same body." OK, Ikiru thought, I can grasp this. I think.

"Where is he now?" he asked slowly, relaxing his grip upon her. She smiled a little and touched her forehead with her free hand.

"In here," she said. "Sleeping." This is so crazy, he thought, but what other explanation is there? She searched his face, the smile fading.

"You believe me," she said wonderingly, then closed her eyes, becoming utterly still. Ikiru felt a stab of worry.

"Are you all right?" he asked, taking her other hand and holding them both tightly.

"Oh, Ikiru," she whispered and real fear sliced through him. Then she opened her eyes and he was astonished at the great joy in them.

"It's so wonderful to be able to tell somebody!" she exclaimed, looking so radiant that he felt an uncontrollable urge to catch her to him and make that incredible brightness his own. His emotions suddenly overwhelmed him: he had to have her, forever!

"Celena!" he cried, "Marry me!" She gaped at him, pulling away; but he hung on to her hands and stopped her retreat. "My military record is exemplary; my family holds one of the highest titles in Kyishi," he said desperately. "Surely I am honorable enough for you!" You're babbling; stop babbling! he thought wildly.

"I-Ikiru!" she said, her eyes enormous. "I can't..." She wrenched her hands from his and turned away, clutching her head. Ikiru crushed his impulse to go over to her, shaking with the effort of keeping still. A terrible thought occurred to him, and he was barely able to get the words out.

"Is there someone else?" he said, frozen in agony. She dropped her hands to her sides and turned back to him; he saw that she was pale but composed.

"Well, yes and no," she said calmly. "Yesterday, I had the great misfortune to find out that I'm engaged to Philippe du Pays." Ikiru stared at her, feeling his rush of wild emotion ebb away. She is so steady, he thought, feeling his cheeks heat up, she must think I'm a real baka. He inwardly sighed. Hell of an impression you're making, Ikiru. Then he came back to the situation at hand, thinking about what she'd just said.

"I take it you're not exactly thrilled about him," he commented. She scowled.

"I despise him!" she exclaimed. "But how can I dishonor the du Pays? I owe them so much..." She looked at him in helpless frustration; he stepped forward and took her hands again.

"What can I do?" he asked quietly. She looked up at him and he was lost in those beautiful grey-blue eyes. Let me do something, he pleaded silently, anything. He bent his head down and touched her lips with his, surprised that she didn't pull away, then was surprised again when she freed her hands and put her arms about his waist, pulling him against her. A rush of desire flooded him as he broke the kiss, gasping a little. She touched his ear with her soft lips.

"You can make me forget for awhile," the whispered words slipped into his ear. "Please."

* * *

The late morning sun was shining brightly into the room as they lay on a couple of Celena's petticoats spread on the floor, and Ikiru marveled at how the light turned her pale tresses into the purest gold. She was smiling at him, her head propped up on one hand as she stroked his cheek with the other, her fingers so soft against his skin. He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm, then grinned.

"Anything else I can do for you?" he asked and she laughed, then pulled her hand free and tweaked his nose. Suddenly her eyes clouded over a little and she grimaced.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Dilandau just woke up," she answered. "Yes?" she added, then blushed. Ikiru half-smiled at her, unsure of just what to think. He felt a stab of irritation at this invasion of their privacy, but the situation wasn't exactly the norm. Then curiosity got the better of him.

"What did he say?" he asked. She gazed at him, thinking it over, then smiled.

"He said it's about time I stopped teasing you," she replied. The blood rushed to his cheeks, but then he inwardly shrugged.

"This is going to take some getting used to," he said. Her smile vanished.

"I'm sorry," she replied, then suddenly sat up and hugged her knees to her chest, her face thoughtful. "This was wrong," she announced, not looking at him. "I had no right to use you so." Ikiru gently pulled her back down to his side.

"Hey," he said softly. "I'm not complaining. And if you don't want to marry Philippe, then I will find a way to stop it." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sudden hope, and he felt a warm rush of emotion. Whatever ever it takes, he vowed, whatever it takes. Then she sat up again, this time tugging at him to join her, which he did. She gestured over to the scroll.

"I've already written a letter to my brother about it, and I was going to ask you to send it. That was before..." she paused and blushed, smiling shyly at him, then she scowled.

"Be quiet," she muttered. "I'm not telling him that."

"Dilandau," Ikiru said firmly, "leave her alone." Celena winced in sudden pain, then took a deep breath. He started to speak and she put her hand gently over his mouth, smiling.

"Ikiru?" she said, "I really appreciate your support, but I think it would be best if you leave Dilandau to me, when he's in here." She tapped her temple and looked at him appealingly. "OK?" she asked. Ikiru smiled.

"OK," he answered. "As I said before, this will take some getting used to." She looked over at the window, then gasped and jumped to her feet. Ikiru followed her, jerking his gaze to the window, searching for the threat. The window was empty.

"Look at the time!" Celena exclaimed. "I've got to take my bath, then Lady Isabella has some genealogies for me to go over with her." She was pulling on her clothes, too busy to notice his blush. I've got to relax, he thought as he got dressed. Luckily his own day was full; he had Lieutenant Uganda's night shift after the concert as well, so he could lose himself in his duties and not have to think too hard about all this. His mind was still a little dazed with it all; but his heart was certain of what it wanted. He caught her and pulled her close as she headed for the doors.

"Hey, you're not leaving without a kiss," he growled, "Dilandau or no." She laughed brightly and kissed him quickly, then broke free and left the room, waving her hand at him as she disappeared. He turned, walked over to the pianoforte and picked up the scroll. It had her brother's name and address written on it; it wouldn't be a problem to send it on its way. He didn't want to wait for Sir Allen's refusal to take her from the du Pays, but he couldn't just snatch her up tonight: he had his own obligations to fulfill as an officer. Patience, Ikiru, he thought grimly. Do this properly. He thought of her, that golden-lit hair, the sweet taste of her mouth, her warm curves; then he ruthlessly pushed his emotions aside. Packing up his violin and bow, he put both the case and the scroll under his arm, then walked to the doors. He looked about the room one last time, smiling a little, then slid open a door and walked out into the corridor. He strode quickly towards his captain's command center, not noticing Philippe standing in the shadows a short distance away in the other direction, leaning against the wall and staring at him with cold hazel eyes.

* * *

Philippe slouched in his chair in the ballroom, impatiently waiting for the Duke to arrive and the concert to begin. He had big plans tonight, and it irked him that he had to endure this stupidity before he could finally get that bastard who had fought him two nights ago in the alley; who had driven him to his knees. His hand came up, idly rubbing the thin scratch that run down one side of his neck. He looked over to where the redhaired lieutenant sat by the pianoforte and suppressed a shudder of distaste. Hentai, he thought, I saw you out on the lawn with him last night. He had been jerked from his sleep by the sound of swords crashing together and had dived to the floor, certain they were being attacked. But then the sounds had stopped and he'd crawled over to the window and peeked out, his eyes widening as he recognized the silverhaired bastard who had humiliated him so badly. He was sitting on another man, holding his kitana at his throat, talking to him. It looked like a made-to-order opportunity to jump him from behind, but their previous confrontation had loomed up in his mind and rooted him, shuddering, to the sill. He'd strained his ears but could only catch bits and pieces of the conversation; then he had fallen back from the window in surprised disgust when the two men had kissed. When he'd gotten back to the window, the bastard was gone and the other man was slowly getting to his feet, the moons clearly showing his red hair and freckled face. It was the lieutenant who had saved him the night before, and Philippe's mind had whirled in confusion. He'd gone back to bed, deciding to tail the soldier the next day in hopes of finding out where that bastard was hiding out. It had to be somewhere in the palace; why else would he have been on the grounds?

The Duke arrived, breaking his train of thought. There was a lot of tedious greetings and ceremony between all the assembled audience, then Celena and the lieutenant went over to the pianoforte. She seated herself, he brought up his violin and the concert began. Philippe ignored the music, glaring at the soldier. Today had been a total wash concerning him, but he had two loyal men casing the palace grounds, so hopefully they would come up with the silverhaired hentai. Philippe would join them when he could escape from this stupid concert; he'd lie in wait at the palace entrance by the maple tree, then follow him to an opportune location. His mother turned towards him and smiled, her face lit up as she listened to the music, and he smiled back, covertly fondling a small bottle in his pants pocket. It was filled with Hitori de, a deadly Egzardian poison. Yes, an opportune location, a chance to slip some of it into a wineglass, and he'd show him who was the lucky bastard.

* * *

Dilandau flipped back his hair and settled the new gold diadem on his forehead. It had a diamond set in the center, and he smiled at the similarity to his original metal band. I wonder what ever happened to that one? he thought, then shrugged. It was part of a life that no longer existed.

"This is not a good idea," Celena said. "We're leaving tomorrow at first light. What if someone wants me for some last-minute packing?" Dilandau smirked.

"Relax, Celena," he drawled. "This is Lady Isabella we're talking about. We'll be lucky to get out of here before supper tomorrow." She was frowning and he felt a stab of impatience.

"So, what are you going to do this night?" she asked. "Kill somebody?" He suddenly grinned, then put on a thoughtful look.

"Perhaps," he answered. "Or get laid. Hey, I wonder what Ikiru's doing?" He laughed at her gasp of outrage. "I'm kidding!" he exclaimed. "Well, maybe." He laughed again and he felt her smile reluctantly. He really didn't know what he'd do if he saw the redhaired soldier. Guess I'll find out when it happens, he thought dismissively.

"Go to sleep, Celena," he said softly. "You've had an exhausting day."

"Did you hear him tonight?" she said, sighing. "He plays so beautifully." He felt her smile sleepily, then she drifted off. At last. Dilandau checked his red-and-black-clad image one last time, admiring the moonlight sparkle of the diamond on his forehead, then, swordbelt in hand, he vaulted out the window and into the night.

* * *

He had better luck with the scenery this small bar: the waiters were much younger and prettier. Since this was his last night in Kaze-yama, he decided to celebrate and order a really good brandy. Karai 382 would be perfect. He made the order and the waiter bowed and disappeared. Dilandau scowled, drumming his fingers on the table. He hated the thought of just going back to the du Pays, waiting to be rescued by Allen. He rolled his eyes. Damn Celena and her sense of obligation! Time passed and he looked irritably about for his waiter, a dangerous look settling on his face. A different waiter suddenly appeared, apologizing profusely for the delay, and set down the bottle, a wineglass in his hand. He opened the bottle, filled the glass, set both on the table and disappeared. Dilandau held the wineglass up to the lamplight, swirling the liquid around slightly and admiring its amber sheen, then he tipped it back and took a swallow. Bitter pain lashed down his throat and he gagged, throwing the glass away, his mouth filled with the taste of nettles.

"SHIT!" he cried, leaping to his feet, jerking his gaze about the bar. The few patrons stared back at him in fearful puzzlement. Dilandau grabbed the back of his chair, steadying himself, his mind racing through the list of poisons he was familiar with. He could feel the sweat sliding down his face and neck; his heart was starting to speed up.

"Hitori de!" he gasped. Fatal, but it took time. He had to get back to the palace: any nobleman worth his salt carried the antidotes to all known poisons and there were three titled men currently residing there. Dilandau strode to the entrance, careful not to run. His heart was going like wildfire; any extreme exertion could trigger the eventual heart attack. His mind whirled as he tried to think of who had poisoned him. Someone who recognized him from his activities of last night? Or perhaps from his life before? He left the bar and headed down the small street, automatically drawing his kitana, taking as direct a route to the palace as he could find. Thank God he hadn't wandered too far away! Such a cowardly act, he couldn't think of anyone who would...

"Hey, you. Hentai." Dilandau stopped and rolled his eyes. Of course. The ass. Philippe du Pays stepped up from the shadows of an intersecting alley, two men with him, their swords drawn. One he recognized as the waiter from the bar, the one who had served him the brandy.

"You better pray I kill you tonight," he growled at the man, "because if you live, you're gonna have the hardest death on Gaia." The man blanched; his kitana trembling. Philippe laughed.

"Try to show some courage, Peter," he sneered. "Can't you see he's a goner?" Dilandau felt a great rush of rage; a level of which he hadn't experienced since seeing Van in Allen's mansion, and his heart doubled its rate, instantly. He gasped and forced himself to calm down, willing his heart to slow. After a few moments, it did, but now the two henchmen were on either side of him, readying themselves to attack. Philippe laughed again, the sound grating on his ears. You are dead, baka, he thought grimly, crouching down a bit and bringing his kitana up, trying to ignore the pounding of the blood in his head. He was starting to gasp for breath, the sweat pouring down his face and running down his body.

"You don't look so lucky, bastard," Philippe snarled. He gestured to his men with his sword. "Kill him!" The two men charged as one. Dilandau ducked under one slashing blade and blocked the other, twisting his kitana about and slicing through the stomach of one of the men. He instantly whirled and decapitated the other, stepping forward to get his balance as the world started a slow tilt. He heard the bodies fall as he started for Philippe, who stood standing with his jaw dropped, his sword held lax in one hand.

"DIE!" Dilandau screamed as he charged him. At the last second the man sprang away and Dilandau cursed the poison that slowed his swing. He felt the blade make contact with flesh and Philippe let out an agonized scream, then he was gone and the world was now seriously spinning out of control. He fell to one knee, gasping for breath, driving the point of his kitana in between two cobblestones and hanging onto the hilt with both hands. He couldn't separate his heartbeats; his pulse was one hard thrum in his veins. He looked up: the palace was only a few hundred meters away. So close!

"Celena!" he gasped. "For God's sake, wake up!" Was she stirring? He couldn't tell: all he could hear and feel was that incredible rush of blood.

"Hmmm, what? Oh my God! What's wrong with your heart!?"

"Philippe!" he gasped, "It's Hitori de! Get up here and get to the palace!"

"What?"

"Hitori de!" he gasped, "Hitori de! Get-to-the-fucking-palace-and-tell- them-you've-been-poisoned-with-Hitori-de!"

"Poisoned! Oh, no!" GOD! he thought, suddenly enraged. We're gonna die here because this stupid bitch won't obey orders!

"CELENA!" he screamed, "I CAN'T HOLD OUT MUCH LONGER!! GET UP HERE AND GET TO THE PALACE!!!"

"But what makes you think I'll be..."

"LISTEN TO ME, BITCH!! I'M COMING DOWN THERE AND IF I FIND YOU YOU'LL DIE BEFORE THE POISON CAN GET YOU!!!" He collapsed onto the ground, his face scraping upon the cobblestones and the kitana clattering to the ground as he fell into the darkness.

* * *

Celena opened her eyes and wailed: her heart was pounding like crazy and sweat was sliding down her face, stinging in the fresh scrapes that ran along her cheek. She sat up with a jerk; she was in the middle of the street, the moons shining brightly upon the cobblestones. The palace! she thought, where is the palace? Her wild gaze found it in front of her, only a sprint away. Dilandau was with her, but he was fading away. Bright terror sliced through her: he was leaving her!

"Don't leave me alone!" she screamed at him, but got no response. His presence faded a little more, then stopped and kept steady, and she drew in a ragged breath, then another, and another. She was gasping for breath and she couldn't stop; her heart was beating faster! The palace, she thought with hysterical determination, Hitori de! She staggered to her feet, the unfamiliar clothes flapping loose about her body, and tried to run. Immediately she fell back to the ground, her heart's rate kicking up another notch. Celena waited a moment, then got carefully to her feet and slowly walked towards the palace, head bowed, concentrating on calming her heart. Its beat slowed a little, but she couldn't catch her breath; the sweat was now pouring down her face and body. Where was the palace? Where was the palace? Something cold and hard knocked into her head and she looked up. It was the palace entry gates; she had run into one of the metal bars. A figure was passing by just inside; the moonlight picked out the black-and-orange uniform of a Zaibach soldier.

"Help!" she gasped. "I'm Lady Celena Schezar, Baron du Pays ward! I've been poisoned with Hitori de!"

"Lady Celena!" the man exclaimed and ran up to the gates. She reached through the bars, her gloved hands shaking, and the soldier clutched them with his own, his brown eyes widening in astonishment.

"Please!" she gasped as the world started to spin at a sharp angle, "I've been poisoned with Hitori de!" Then she tumbled down into the darkness.

* * *

Celena hit the wooden floor of their room with a crash, crying out in terror. She sprang to her feet, then immediately fell back down. Although her heartbeat, or what passed for that here had returned to normal, she was still tired. So very, deadly tired. No! she thought, she would not die now! They'd been found, surely someone was helping them! She looked wildly about, searching for Dilandau. He had made it to the futon: she could see his body stretched out upon it. But his presence was so very faint! She crawled over to him, fighting that terrible weariness, and grasped his shoulders.

"Get up, Dilandau! Get up!" she shouted, trying to shake him. It was like shaking a boulder; she didn't have the strength to move him. She hauled back and slapped him hard across the face, whipping his head from right to left and sending a numbing pain shooting up her arm. He didn't respond, so she slapped him with her other hand. Still nothing.

"Wake...up! Wake...up! Wake...up!" she shouted, punctuating her commands with hard slaps upon his face. Suddenly his eyes flew open and he launched himself at her with a scream, knocking her backwards onto the floor, hishands closing tightly about her throat. He snarled at her, teeth bared and red eyes blazing as he choked her, then he gasped and jerked his hands away.

"Cel-Celena?" he asked dazedly, then sat back on his heels, his upper body swaying back and forth. She got up onto her knees and caught him under his arms, trying to keep him upright.

"Stay awake, Dilandau," she pleaded, gasping with the effort of holding up his weight. "We're at the palace! We've just got to keep awake until the antidote works." He looked at her, his eyes dull.

"Why bother?" he asked. "You're in my clothes. If Philippe sees you we're done for. Back to the sorcerers..." His head fell back but she wrenched his body forward, causing it to snap back onto his chest.

"No!" she shouted. "We don't know that! I want to live! Ikiru! I haven't had enough time with Ikiru!" He chuckled, his eyes closed, and the sound chilled her.

"Don't you know?" he whispered. "There's never enough time. It's always too short. Oh, Gatti-san..." A look of pain crossed the pale features, then he fell backwards onto the floor, dragging her with him. Panic clutched her; she could feel her life being taken away with his; they were fading together...

"Dilandau!" she cried. "Please stay awake! I want to live!" He didn't respond and suddenly she was consumed with rage. She grabbed his hair with both hands.

"I want to live!" she shouted at him. "Do you hear me, Dilandau Albatou?! I WANT TO LIVE!!" Twisting the silver strands in her fists, she pulled with all her might. His eyes flew open again and he yelped in pain, grabbing her wrists and wrenching them away from his head.

"All right! All right!" he yelled, red eyes blazing. "Godammit, Celena, that HURTS!" He sat up and shoved her away, glaring at her as she fell backwards onto the floor. She sprang to her feet with a snarl, ready to launch herself at him, then stopped in astonishment. The deadly weariness was gone; she felt a little dazed but all right. She looked over to Dilandau and saw the same realization in his eyes. He grinned suddenly and got lightly to his feet.

"We made it," he said, and crossed his arms, smirking down at her. "Good thing I'm so strong," he added smugly. Celena gasped in outrage, glaring at him, then gasped again as he suddenly caught her up in a hug. She started to hug him back, but he gently pushed her away.

"Go on up there and get a damage report," he ordered. She smiled and, before he could react, took his face in her hands and lightly kissed him. Then she rose up towards the pinprick of light that appeared above her.

* * *

"I think she's waking, sir." Celena opened her eyes, squinting at the bright lamplight, and groaned in pain: her body felt like every muscle had been pulled mercilessly. She felt a cool hand lift her head up and a glass pressed to her mouth; she drank, the water soothing on her tongue and down her throat.

"Domo arigato," she whispered, looking up at a man's kind face. Then she gasped, recognizing the brown eyes she'd seen at the gates. The soldier smiled reassuringly, then gently lowered her head and sat back.

"Lady Celena?" Ikiru! She jerked to a sitting position, twisting to her left, and he was there on a chair beside the bed, his blue eyes dark with concern and his cheeks flushing. She wanted to throw herself in his arms, but he shook his head slightly and turned towards the soldier.

"Corporal Yatate," he said calmly, "Stand guard outside. Let no one in." The soldier stood and bowed his head, then smiled again at her, turned on his heel and left the room. Ikiru waited until the paper doors slid shut, then grabbed her tightly in a hug.

"Thank God I had Uganda's shift tonight!" he exclaimed quietly, mindful of thin doors, and kissed her fiercely. She kissed him back, holding his face tightly against hers as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, forgetting everything but her sudden rush of desire.

"Could we find out what happened?" Dilandau asked impatiently and she gasped, trying to pull herself away from the soldier. He freed her mouth and let go of her, then caught her hands in a tight grip.

"Oh, Celena!" he gasped, "I love you! You almost died..." Celena forced herself to calm down, then squeezed his hands, soberly studying him. I'll deal with this later, she thought. She understood Dilandau's sense of urgency: were they really out of the woods yet?

"Where am I?" she asked, looking about and not recognizing the room. Ikiru looked much calmer now, although his cheeks were bright red. His freckled face turned serious.

"This is Corporal Yatate's bedroom," he replied. "Philippe showed up a short while before you did, shouting his head off about being attacked by a maniac."

"He's not dead?!" Dilandau exclaimed. "Bastard! Just wait until..."

"Shut up, Dilandau!" she shouted down at him and he fell into a sullen silence. Ikiru was looking her up and down and she noticed that she was still in Dilandau's red jacket, black pants and boots.

"He gave quite an accurate description of the attacker," the soldier continued. "Right down to the outfit you're wearing." Celena's eyes widened as panic lashed through her, but he squeezed her hands and smiled slightly.

"He's also sporting one hell of a shoulder wound and has managed to bring the palace into a complete uproar." Relief flooded through her.

"Thank goodness," she said. "I can get back to my room without anyone noticing." Ikiru shook his head.

"You're not going back there," he stated firmly. "I'm not putting you in danger." He shivered, his grip suddenly painful. "It's only because Corporal Yatate is one of our medics that you're even alive: you were that close to dying."

"But..." He interrupted her.

"This isn't open to debate." Sudden fury lashed through her: who was he to decide her fate? She scowled at him, twisting her hands in his grip, but he ignored her anger, gazing calmly at her.

"Philippe will eventually find out the truth," he stated quietly, "or Dilandau will kill him. Is that what you want?" Celena stopped trying to free her hands, shocked.

"No!" she exclaimed. Dilandau snarled.

"Really, Celena," he snapped, "you are too much! He tried to kill us, remember?"

"No, Dilandau," she replied quietly, "He tried to kill you. And I'm sure he had a good reason." He howled furiously in response, causing her to wince in pain, but Ikiru pulled at her hands and she brought her attention back to him.

"I'm sure you're having an important talk with Dilandau," he said grimly, "but time is short." Sudden fear clutched her as she looked up at him. He smiled reassuringly, then sobered.

"The palace is pretty chaotic right now, but that will soon pass. I'm sending you off with Corporal Yatate to my father's house in Kyishi."

"Kyishi!" Dilandau shouted. "Will I EVER escape that damn city?!" She shushed him, trying to listen to Ikiru.

"Yatate is one of my men and completely trustworthy," he was saying. "You will be safe there." Safe? she thought dazedly, looking away. Was there any place on Gaia where she could truly be safe? And the du Pays... the heavy burden of obligation fell upon her, but suddenly she angrily shrugged it off. She didn't want to marry Philippe; she wasn't going to marry Philippe, and Allen was out of reach. Perhaps she would never be safe, but she was damned if she was going to let anyone completely rule her life. Ever. Ikiru suddenly let go of her hands and she looked at him. The freckled features were composed; the blue eyes earnest.

"Celena," he said, "Forget what I said before. If you don't want to do this, then I won't make you." Her jaw dropped; it was like he had read her mind. Then she took his hands and smiled.

"It sounds like a good plan," she said and he blushed. Could he seriously blush any more often? she thought fondly.

"Oh, Celena," he said, leaning forward to kiss her. She leaned back and let go of his hands.

"Ikiru," she said determinedly, "You said time is short." His face twisted in soft frustration, then he nodded and stood.

"Dress yourself in one the Yatate's uniforms," he said, waving his hand towards a wardrobe that stood along one wall. "Knock on the door and he'll come in and get you. It's a four day ride to the border of Zaibach; my father knows him and will take you in." He suddenly pulled her to her feet and caught her in his arms.

"I'll come as soon as I can," he whispered. "Oh, God, Celena, you must stay with me forever!" Yes, oh yes! she wanted to cry out but was stopped by a snort from Dilandau.

"Isn't he forgetting somebody?" he growled in her head and she had to admit he was right.

"Please, we must hurry," she said softly, her heart aching at the dashed look on his face. She ran her fingers across his lips and he crushed her to him, kissing her, then he let go and quickly left the room. Celena went to the wardrobe, pulling off the loose clothes, then she opened the wooden doors. There jackets and pants hanging inside, with a couple of berets upon the shelf below. She coiled up her hair and fitted a beret on her head, pushing the stray curls under the orange-edged band.

"I can't believe we're running again," Dilandau snarled.

"I think we'd better get used to it," she replied, putting her fingers gently to her lips and smiling, thinking of the redhaired lieutenant. Then she pushed her thoughts away and began to dress.

THE END