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The group was fairly quiet as they walked along the wooden planks of Balfonheim Port. Balthier would be a happy man when this was all over with, but the day ahead was sure to be a challenge. Doctor Cid’s final creation was on its merry way to Rabanastre, and the Strahl would be there in hours. The sky pirate was never one to exaggerate, but it truly felt like the end of the world. Balthier strolled into the aerodrome at the southeastern edge of the city, Fran by his side. They approached the private airship counter, and the sky pirate set down his identification papers. “Bunansa. My ship is the Strahl in hangar eight.” The young woman behind the counter smiled and began paging through the ledger. Her smile faded as she reached a certain part of the book. She shook her head and looked at his papers again. “I’m sorry, sir…” she began, and Balthier began to feel uneasy. Of all the days for a paperwork error in this blasted aerodrome! “Is there a problem?” Basch inquired from behind him, and the woman looked up with a very puzzled expression. The woman bit her lip and handed his papers back across the counter. “It appears that a Mister Bunansa has already taken the Strahl…” “What?” Ashe cried, shoving her way forward to lean over the counter. She went up on her tiptoes to squint at the ledger upside down, and then she jerked her thumb in his direction. “This man is Mister Bunansa, the owner of the ship!” Balthier turned to his partner and gave her a quick nod. “Check the hangar,” he muttered, and the Viera hurried off in the direction of hangar eight with Vaan and Penelo behind her. He leaned on the counter wearily, Ashe standing beside him ready to explode. The woman turned the ledger around to show them. “See? Right here, hangar eight…it says a Mister Bunansa was authorized to take the Strahl.” He pulled the ledger up closer, and Ashe tugged it so it was in between the two of them. “Is this your signature, Balthier?” she asked tersely, her finger tapping on the ledger entry. The sky pirate rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s not my signature!” He waved his papers in the Princess’ face. “That is my signature,” he said, directing her to his scrawl on the official owner’s certificate. Then he pointed to the ledger. “That there is a base imitation. He didn’t even spell Bunansa right!” He scowled at the woman. “There is no Z in Bunansa!” The attendant paled and gently pulled the ledger away from them. “There must have been some mistake. My shift just started. Let me get my superior…” she muttered, hurrying away to start talking nervously with an older man at another counter. “Do you think someone stole the ship?” Basch asked, and they turned around to look at him. “Perhaps agents of Vayne Solidor?” Ashe slammed her palm down on the counter angrily. “I don’t believe this! We must hurry to Rabanastre! I will not stand idly by and wait!” Balthier shook his head and sighed. “Not much choice, Princess. I’m not overly fond of the thought that my ship has vanished either.” The young attendant and her supervisor returned, the man wearing a very grim expression that made Balthier’s stomach drop. He looked to the sky pirate with an apologetic look. “You are Mister Bunansa?” He nodded and flashed the papers again, fat lot of good that seemed to be around this aerodrome. The supervisor paged through the ledger, and Ashe stepped away from the counter to pace furiously behind him. Balthier could hear Basch mumbling words of comfort to calm down Her Royal Highness. “Well,” the supervisor said, “I’m sorry to say that someone has absconded with your vessel, posing as yourself.” “Yes, yes,” Balthier said behind gritted teeth, “I think we’ve established that. Now who was at this counter when my ship was taken?” The man looked down in embarrassment, and Balthier wanted to strangle him. He could almost hear Ashe growling behind him. Of all the days in Ivalice! “What did he look like?” The man looked at his co-worker, and she gave him a small smile of encouragement. “A rather short fellow. Ginger hair….” “And you just let him take my ship?!” Balthier interjected, “He doesn’t even look like me!” But the attendant’s description of the thief set off alarm bells in Balthier’s head. It couldn’t be… The man offered him a thin-lipped smile. “He had the correct credentials…” The Princess shoved her way to the counter once more and went back up on her toes. She leaned as far forward as she could without leaving the ground, and Balthier wanted to pick her up and heave her over the counter to knock the stupid attendant to the floor. “This town is run by all manner of criminals! Including those that specialize in forgery!” she screamed, and Balthier withheld a grin as dozens of people in the aerodrome turned to watch the scene. If someone hadn’t just stolen his ship, he would have applauded her. The female attendant looked between the Princess and the pirate, and Balthier could tell she was worried about being physically assaulted by Ashe. “I’m so very sorry, sir. The East Ivalice Company would be happy to…” “Balthier! It’s gone!” Vaan cried as he and Penelo raced back from the hangar, Fran walking behind them. He looked to his partner and saw her waving a small scroll at him.
He rushed over to the Viera and snatched the scroll away. He untied the string and unraveled the parchment and was unable to stifle the groan that burst forth from him as he read. Balthier and Fran! Long time no see! You know I am fond of anniversaries, and what luck I seem to have had on today of all days! You in Balfonheim with that beautiful ship! Why, it brings a tear to my eye! You’re a smart pair, I’m sure you can find her easily enough…if you find her in time! Must be going! Cheers! L.D. The sky pirate was about to crumple the paper in his fist when Ashe yanked it out of his hand and began to read it. “Anniversary? What anniversary?” she cried, passing the parchment to Basch. Balthier shook his head and sighed. “Fran…Durio has a very good memory.” The Viera crossed her arms and glared at him. “Of all the days…” she muttered. Fran had not been in favor of the event that had initially incurred Durio’s wrath, but Balthier had kindly ignored her input that day. Ashe looked between the sky pirates and repeated her previous inquiry. He rubbed his temple. “Langden Durio, pirate and thief. Not a very good one, but it appears he has improved. It was three years ago today that we…” Fran glowered at him. “That *I* stole his ship from the Balfonheim aerodrome, and it appears he has decided to return the favor.” If Ashe had been angry before, Balthier did not have a word to describe the current expression now plastered on her face. Livid was not exactly strong enough. He almost expected smoke to pour from her ears. She was about to unleash what would undoubtedly be a string of very unPrincesslike curses in his direction when Basch placed a hand on her shoulder to intervene. “So this Durio has some sort of vendetta against you and has stolen the Strahl. In other words, we cannot fly to the Bahamut until we retrieve the ship from this pirate?” he noted calmly. A bit too calmly, Balthier mused. He was probably even angrier than Ashe was, and the sky pirate wanted to hide behind the counter like the attendant. In fact, it appeared that the entire party was now furious with him for something that was clearly out of his control. Balthier backed away from the five disgusted individuals he was saddled with and returned to the counter. The man actually flinched at his approach. “A question for you. The destination…did the impostor leave a forwarding address? Drop a hint as to where he was heading?” The attendant uttered a sigh of relief as he seemed to recall something. “Yes! Yes, he mentioned something about a big event in Bhujerba. Is that at all helpful?” Balthier nodded curtly and began to stroll towards the exit of the aerodrome. “Wait!” Ashe cried, and she raced to catch up with him. “Where do you think you’re going, you…you…you pirate!” A dozen members of that very profession turned to the Princess and stared at her coldly, and Balthier rolled his eyes and halted his rush. He turned around to regard the Princess and the other four who had chased after her through the busy aerodrome. They looked to him anxiously, and he could not blame them. They should have been in the air by now on their way to almost certain danger, and now they were stranded. “What are we going to do?” Penelo asked quietly, “Can we use another airship?” Fran shook her head. “Not for this mission. We would not be able to rent one of the Strahl’s caliber at such short notice, nor would anyone lend one knowing how we intend to use it.” “Um…couldn’t we just lie?” Vaan asked, and Balthier struggled with the urge to actually praise the boy for the very first time. Basch strode forward. “So what is in Bhujerba? Is there something you know that we do not, Balthier?” The sky pirate scratched his head. Bhujerba at this time of year…Bhujerba…Bhujerba. It struck him. “Sir Merritt’s ball!” he announced, and Fran rolled her eyes. “What is Sir Merritt’s ball?” Ashe asked tentatively, her shoulders still tense with anger. Balthier wished her fury was still directed at the dumbfounded employees of the East Ivalice Company rather than himself. The Viera looked straight at him, and it was obvious that she knew what he was planning. “Sir Merritt Yanoule, generally lazy Bhujerban nobleman who throws a lavish ball this time of year. Known for leading his guests to view glowing magicite in the Lhusu Mines.” “And that is exactly where Durio is headed,” Balthier finished and headed out the exit of the aerodrome. Ashe was at his heels again. She tugged on his sleeve. “How do you know that’s where he’s going? He could be anywhere in Ivalice by now!” Fran was on Ashe’s other side then. “Because there will be a lot of wealthy people at the ball. If you wanted to sell an expensive piece of land…or an airship, perhaps, Sir Merritt’s guest list will probably include someone willing to take that property off of your hands.” “He’s going to sell your ship? Why not keep it for himself?” Vaan asked, hurrying to keep up with the rest of them as Balthier continued walking back in the direction of Reddas’ manse. “Because that’s what I did with *his* ship,” Balthier recollected. He had been so proud of himself that day. He snatched that piece of trash airship from under Durio’s nose (although Fran had repeatedly told him not to) and had sold it within five hours to a very eager Bangaa. He thought that it would get the irritating young man out of his hair, but now he was regretting the indiscretions of youth. The lesson here, he wondered? Always listen to a Viera. The Princess now had a death grip on his arm, and under other circumstances, he enjoyed women getting rough with him. But he knew exactly what was coming. “You unbelievable imbecile! Because of your big ego we are delayed!” she screeched, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the street. “If Vayne Solidor does anything…and I mean anything to Rabanastre, I swear that my first order as Queen of Dalmasca will be putting your stupid pirate behind in prison to rot for the rest of your days!” For the life of him, he could not understand why it enticed him to see her so furious with him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Princess, just save it, will you? As you surely know by now, I am the leading man. And I know exactly how I will get my ship back and get your royal…behind to Rabanastre before tomorrow is over.” She continued to glare at him, and the others looked to him for some explanation. But he only had eyes for Her Majesty. “I don’t suppose you have a spare ball gown, do you, Ashe?” ------------------------------------------------------- “You’re mad, you know that?” Balthier sighed. “Look, can you just get it done? We have to leave within the hour or we won’t make it to Bhujerba before nightfall.” Rikken grumbled and walked off to fulfill his request. He called back to the sky pirate over his shoulder. “I can’t guarantee you that they’ll be as authentic as you want. As previously established…you’re mad.” He shooed the young man away as Ashe stood in the same position she had been for the past fifteen minutes while he had spoken with Reddas’ right hand man. Arms crossed, increasingly furious facial expression. “Explain to me again why you can’t take Fran,” she demanded. “For the last time, Princess, he will know her immediately. Not many other Viera at Sir Merritt’s little get-togethers. Besides, we need her to stay here in case he’s duped us with this Bhujerba idea,” he explained for what felt like the hundredth time since he had explained his plot in the first place. It had made perfect sense in his mind, and the others had seemingly agreed that it was a sensible enough plan. Well, Basch hadn’t been overly fond of it. And neither was his royal charge. Fran and Basch would be holding down the fort in Balfonheim with the assistance of Vaan and Penelo while he and Ashe flew to Bhujerba to infiltrate the ball in search of Durio and the Strahl. Rikken was on his way to have fake papers created for them, and Elza was procuring clothes for the ball. Little Raz was charged with forging invitations for them. All was going well thus far…with the exception of his new partner in crime. She wasn’t exactly behaving in a cooperative fashion. They simply waited for all the pieces to come together in Reddas’ manse, the looming threat of Bahamut still on everyone’s minds. Elza poked her head out from a door at the top of the stairs. “Ashe? I think we’re the same size. Why don’t you try these on?” Balthier could visibly see the color drain from the Princess Ashe’s face. Although Ashe herself was not always dressed conservatively, she looked like an acolyte of Kiltia compared to Elza’s usual attire. She glared at him and trudged up the stairs to select the clothes she would be wearing that evening. Luckily enough for Balthier, his usual garb was suitable for traveling as an aristocratic party guest, and he had snagged a more elaborate outfit for the ball from one of the rooms in Reddas’ home. Although Balthier had argued that the man was not returning for his clothes, Vaan was still not speaking with him. The entire group was a bit punchy with the delays, and Balthier could not wait to quit Balfonheim. However, Ashe’s attitude was proving to be a pain in the you know what, and he’d be spending the remainder of the day with her. He just wanted his airship back, and once that happened, Balthier would be a happier man. “We’re going to go shopping. We’ll make sure that we have the best arms for…tomorrow,” Penelo said encouragingly, and she dragged Vaan away from the manse. He was now stuck in the room with Basch, who was probably plotting his death, and his partner, who seemed to regard him with nothing but contempt for getting them all into this mess. Raz bounded in happily, waving a large envelope. “I ran into Rikken on the way back, so he has the names. I guess I always work better under pressure,” he remarked and handed the envelope to Balthier. The sky pirate frowned. “I thought I asked you for two invitations…” Raz shook his head. “Well I figured that you just needed the one. Both your new names are on there, don’t worry about it! Sir Merritt’s people will have enough rooms; they won’t even know you weren’t on the guest list!” Balthier pulled the elaborate paper invite out of the envelope, and he grinned widely. Ashe was going to wring his pirate neck. He put the invitation back and bowed to little Raz. “I am sorry to have doubted you. This will be perfect.” Fran glanced up at him, and he gave her a wink. “She is going to seriously harm you, Balthier,” the Viera muttered, and Basch looked between them, but he could not decipher their meaning. The door at the top of the stairs opened, and Ashe emerged. Instead of her usual attire, she was now dressed in a long blue gown. To her clear discomfort, it had the obvious Elza touch with a plunging neckline and a slit up the side. But the Princess had found a thin shawl to wear over it to more closely embody her new status as a guest of Sir Merritt. “Doesn’t she look positively royal?” Elza exclaimed happily, carrying a bag behind Ashe. “She *is* royal, Elza,” Balthier answered with a shake of his head. Ashe marched down the stairs in an obvious huff. “Besides, she only needs to look like gentry, and you have succeeded. I’m surprised you even owned something like that.” Elza snorted and handed Ashe a garment bag with her evening attire. Ashe collapsed in an arm chair next to Basch and crossed her arms defiantly. Elza laughed and wandered off to check on Rikken’s progress. The room was uncomfortably silent, and Balthier knew that the day was far from what they had expected. But they would never sneak aboard the Bahamut without the Strahl, so they did not have much choice. Minutes later, Rikken rushed back in, a triumphant smile on his face. “You owe me big time for this,” he boasted, handing traveling papers to Balthier and the Princess. The sky pirate nodded in thanks and opened the papers to grin at the new name that appeared there. He looked over to see Ashe glance at the papers, and he could see her eyes narrow the second she noticed it. “Wait a minute here…” she said quickly, and he walked over to drop the ball invitation into her lap. She took it out of the envelope, and the look on her face was one he would never forget for the rest of his life. “Lord and Lady?!” He put his hands on his hips and looked down at her. “I know it’s a step down on the aristocrat ladder for you…” She stood up to scowl up at him, and despite her smaller stature, she was rather intimidating. “That’s not what I’m saying!” She shoved the invitation in his face. “I am to pose as your WIFE?!” she cried. Basch stood up angrily, and Balthier waved him off. “That’s the idea,” he replied, taking the invitation from her and sliding it into her bag of clothes. She sputtered for a few moments, unable to reply, and it appeared that Basch was equally irritated and speechless. “Come on, we have to make for the aerodrome.” He picked up her bag and slung it over his shoulder and headed for the door. Finally, she found words. “I can’t do that! I am not that good of a LIAR!” she complained, and he turned around to grin at her. Fran and Basch stood behind her, made up of equal parts disgust and slight amusement at their bickering. He approached the Princess and patted her on the head like a child. “Ashe, one day very soon you will be a politician of the highest order. Wouldn’t you like to practice lying to people’s faces?” She swatted his hand away and moved ahead of him to storm out the door. At the very least, she had the haughty noble blood lending itself well to her disguise. Fran walked past shaking her head, and Basch stayed behind to march along at his side. “If you do not return by this time tomorrow, Fran and I are coming for you,” he remarked. Balthier nodded in acknowledgment, although he knew they were worrying for no reason. This plan would work if he had to cast a love spell on his new wife. The knight continued his warnings. “And do not take advantage of her Highness because you are playing a part. I know many ways to kill a man without anyone knowing it was murder,” Basch threatened menacingly, and the sky pirate laughed. The rest of the walk to the aerodrome was calm enough with the exception of the loud sighs that seemed to emanate from the Princess every other minute. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Ashe stared out the window, and he knew she was irritated to be flying in the opposite direction they had planned for that day. He sat across from her as the ship flew south towards Bhujerba. They were in a private cabin thanks to their impeccable travel papers, but she had said very little since they had boarded. The only acknowledgment Balthier had received from her was a look of disgust as he wore her husband’s ring on his finger. But if they were to ask around about the Strahl that night, it was essential that they played their parts well. Balthier knew he was up to the task since lying was like second nature to him. But would Her Majesty hold up her end of the deal? He smiled to himself. If she didn’t, there would be no Strahl to escort her in comfort to certain doom aboard the Bahamut. He waved his hand in her face to snap her out of her staring. “Shall we practice our story?” he asked calmly, but she still would not turn to face him. “Fine,” she muttered, her brow furrowing as she continued to gaze out the small porthole. This was not going to be easy, Balthier thought. He leaned forward. “Where did we meet?” She finally turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “In a sewer. You had just stolen treasure from my palace.” He sighed. If this was what being married to Ashelia B’Nargin Dalmasca would be like, he would embrace bachelorhood for the rest of his days. “Well, that was Vaan who took that trinket, but that is irrelevant at this juncture.” She stared at him blankly. It appeared he was to come up with the story. He sat back in the seat and looked at her, scrutinizing her appearance. She looked at her lap. “We met one summer while I was home from the Akademy. Your father, a dear friend of my parents for many years, sent you to our estate to be tutored. By that winter we were pledged to one another and the following year was the wedding. You looked beautiful that day…” She looked up at him. “Balthier, hold on…” He held up a hand to stop her. “No no no, that is not my name. I’m…” he reached into his pocket to pull out the travel papers. “Cullen Heras Hetterick, Lord Radovan. Wow. Rikken really outdid himself, I’ll give him that.” He returned the papers and gave her a grin. “And Lord Radovan’s strikingly gorgeous wife? What is her name?” For what was quite possibly the millionth time that day, Ashe glared at him. She undid the clasp on her bag and pulled out her papers. “Alene Davonia Shellore, Lady Radovan,” she replied with a frown. “You don’t like it?” he asked. She shook her head and set the papers down in the seat next to her. “It’s not my name.” “Neither was Amalia.” She was quiet then. He decided to continue to instruct her in their history together. “So we were wed, as already stated. For our leisure, we invest in the theatre district in Archades. Our last venture, Our Rozarrian Maid, ran for sixty-two weeks at the Aristophanes in Trant.” “Our Rozarrian Maid?” she parroted back. He buried his head in his hands. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. He didn’t know if he wanted to throttle her or make passionate love to her. “Alene…” he complained, at least attempting to stay in character. She leaned forward and tilted her head sideways to look at him. “Wasn’t it Our Rozarrian Cousin?” He loved her. Balthier raised his eyes to meet hers, which were a lot more welcoming than they had been earlier. “Right you are. And you love the scent of the orange blossoms on our estate in Tsenoble, but you’re getting a bit irritated with all the nouveau riche moving in there, and you want to set up house in Bhujerba one of these days.” She actually smiled at him, a teeth-baring, wide open smile. “And you spend every night gambling away my dowry…” He put his hand over his heart. “Are you insinuating that there is trouble in paradise?” She giggled, a delightful sound that he had not heard their entire journey. He wanted to hear it much much more. “If you and I were truly wed…” “If?” The Princess bit her lip and appeared to be holding back from something. Finally, she reached her hand forward to cup his cheek, her eyes full of adoration. “Oh my sweet Cullen, your Aleenie wouldn’t change you for the world.” He was awestruck. Her Majesty was a consummate actress. She dropped her hand, but he caught it excitedly, giving her a squeeze. “That was amazing! Well done, Aleenie!” he praised her, and she blushed at the attention. But he remembered Basch’s threat and released her. He sat back and turned sideways, propping his legs up on the chair beside him. She looked back at the papers in her lap, probably continuing to scrutinize her new name and title. Balthier decided to consider every possible question that some meddling busybody at the ball would ask. “So how soon can we expect an heir to the Radovan name?” Where he expected her to be embarrassed, she did not even look away from the papers. Her reply sounded completely natural. “Oh, we’ve been trying for a while now.” “We have?” he managed to squeak out, a sound very unbecoming of a gentry man like himself…or a sky pirate for that matter. She looked up from the papers and nodded. “Constantly.” The wicked creature! Where had *this* version of Ashe been all this time? He supposed that trouble at every turn and constant battling had robbed her of her sense of humor, but he was rather enjoying what he was now bearing witness to. And now he couldn’t ignore the thought of “constantly” trying for a Radovan heir with the lovely woman across from him. “Admit it,” he said to her, “you’re having fun.” She set the papers aside and stretched her legs across the aisle to lay her feet on his chest. “Maybe.” Had someone slipped her some concoction when he wasn’t looking? Who was this strange woman and what had she done with that grump of a Princess? Even Fran was never this much fun on some of their more elaborate capers. He dared to rest his hands atop her shins, and he did not detect any flinching on her part, aside from the glowing red color that was spreading to the tips of her ears. Balthier smiled and closed his eyes to relax. If she was to use him as a glorified foot rest, then he was going to take his leave to get more acquainted with his new wife’s ankles. “We make a good team, Princess,” he mumbled as he listened to the soothing hum of the airship. He only heard a gentle “Mmm” in response, and he let himself drift off for the remainder of the flight, the Princess’ delicate feet perched atop him like they were meant to be there. ---------------------------------------------- She walked about in that defiant manner only those born with blue blood seemed to be capable of. Her hands on her hips, the Princess gazed around the aerodrome and finally settled her eyes upon him. “Why don’t we see if Durio’s moored the ship here? We might save ourselves a great deal of trouble.” He shook his head and moved his hand to the small of her back to guide her to the exit. “He’s not that stupid. He probably has it stashed in a private hangar near the estate. I suggest that we find an excuse to sneak about before we are expected at the ball.” She did not seem to outwardly object to his current hand placement, but her last aerodrome performance that morning had drawn quite a bit of attention. Perhaps she was allowing it for the sake of their mission. Ashe gripped her garment bag tightly and let him lead her out into the bright sunshine. “Do you even know where we are going?” she inquired with some measure of disdain, and Balthier found the word “Divorce!” floating through his myriad thoughts. He let his fingers drift up and down her back as they walked through the crowd. Spotting a very nattily dressed man, his equally nattily dressed female companion and an entourage of utterly bored domestics standing together just outside the entrance, Balthier gave his companion a gentle push in their direction. “I believe we’ll be traveling with this lot,” he muttered as they approached the group. The man gave him a broad smile, and his lady friend gave Ashe the once over, to the Princess’ thinly veiled displeasure. “Hullo there! That time of year, eh?” the man said genially, reaching over to clap Balthier on the shoulder. It appeared that they had succeeded in giving off a definite air of wealth, and the sky pirate was amazed at how quickly it had worked. Obviously this man was an idiot. “Afraid the wife and I couldn’t make it last year, dreadful shame,” he replied, squeezing Ashe around the middle, and she very slowly let her body relax at his touch. For her part, his new wife smiled at the wealthy pair. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Alene Shellore and this is my…” Balthier squeezed her tighter. “This is my husband, Cullen Hetterick.” The couple nodded in acknowledgment. The other man draped an arm over his companion’s shoulder. “Erfe Malanga, of the Passchendale Square Malangas…and my beautiful wife, Renata,” the man offered in introduction. Balthier had to withhold a chuckle. The Passchendale Square Malangas were notorious in pirating circles as one of the easiest families to steal from in Archades. He’d have to hold back the urge to snatch the rings off of the man’s fingers. There was other pressing business to attend to first. Balthier released Ashe and gave Erfe a hearty shake, nearly wincing at how easily he could snatch the jewelry from the man’s hand. “We received our invites a bit late, so we were unable to procure accommodation. Not to mention that we didn’t have time to reserve a transport to the mansion…” Renata seemed to be distressed at their lack of preparation, but her husband continued to be a pompous twit. “Then you will accompany us to the estate! Plenty of room!” This was almost too easy, the sky pirate thought to himself. The man was apparently fond of milk from a specific Garif nanna ranch and had it specially imported three times a week, while his wife spent the entirety of her conversation complaining about the way her shoes hurt the arches of her feet. The couple did not inquire the slightest bit about Lord and Lady Radovan, to Balthier’s amusement. Typical snotty, self-absorbed aristocrats, he thought. The overworked and most likely underpaid servant returned moments later. “My lord, there is a sky cab waiting at the end of the lane…” Erfe scoffed at this. “We are to walk all that way? Are you mad?” Ashe worked some surprisingly diplomatic magic on Lord Malanga. “It’s such a beautiful day. Surely we could endure it? Unless your feet are in pain, Renata?” Erfe ignored his wife’s clear distress, and Balthier and Ashe followed the entourage up the hilly street away from the aerodrome. The sky pirate could not wait to praise his faux spouse for her superior schmoozing abilities, but he supposed they would have a moment to rest once they were shown to their accommodations at the estate. They were ushered into the sky cab and flew over the floating land towards Sir Merritt’s estate. Lord Malanga had seated himself next to Ashe, and Balthier had to endure the heady perfume worn by Renata at his side. It made him dizzy, but not so dizzy as to not notice their new friend’s eyes drifting continually down Ashe’s dress to gape at her chest. The Princess seemed well aware of this unwanted attention, and she kept looking to him in a near panic. Balthier nodded at her, willing her to endure the ogling. For her part, Renata made no attempt to stare at him, as she was far more interested in picking small bits of fluff from a tiny hole in the cab seat. Finally, the ride was over, and he could tell Ashe was holding in a sigh of relief. Of course, as they disembarked, Erfe “accidentally” brushed a hand against the Princess’ rear end as she rose from her seat. Luckily enough, Lord Malanga did not receive a punch in the face from one of Ashe’s shaking fists. The pair followed their new friends to the grand foyer of the mansion, and Balthier caught the Princess rolling her eyes at a giant portrait of Sir Merritt that adorned the airy room. He was pictured astride a glorious golden chocobo with adoring women looking up at him in wonder. Balthier wondered how much such a portrait cost and seriously considered commissioning one the next time he obtained a decent amount of gil. Perhaps he would include a likeness of Her Majesty in the crowd of women. The Malangas were escorted off to rooms in the north wing of the mansion as a harried butler approached them. Balthier did not envy the man’s job. “Lord and Lady Radovan. Terribly sorry, but we did not have time to write ahead to reserve accommodation. Surely there is a space for us tonight?” he inquired as kindly as he could without betraying his arrogant aristocratic exterior. Ashe presented their invitation, and he could see her crossing her fingers behind her back. The butler barely glanced at the invite, and he called over an equally stressed young porter. “Please escort Lord and Lady Radovan to the Tonberry Room, and make sure they have everything they require.” The porter nodded, and he gestured for them to follow him. Ashe began to hoist her garment bag, but the porter quickly snatched it himself as it would be unbecoming of a lady of her stature to carry her own things. Balthier tossed the porter his own small bag as well as long as the service was being provided. They were led down an ornate hallway filled with numerous medals and achievements dedicated to Sir Merritt, none of which were obtained without some measure of bribery. They climbed a marble staircase, and the porter took them to the end of another hall. “Sorry it’s so far from the ball room, my lord. But this is one of the only rooms left…” the busy young man muttered as he unlocked the door. Balthier was impressed with the accommodations offered to those who were in no way, shape or form actually invited. There was a large bed that one would probably need a ladder to climb into with fluffy chocobo down linens. There was a writing desk, a small bar, a vanity with a floor length looking glass, a private bath, and a marvelous view of the Bhujerba skyline. He wondered if Marquis Ondore himself enjoyed such a view at his estate. “Yes, I suppose this will be satisfactory,” Balthier replied haughtily and handed the man a decent tip for his trouble. The door was closed behind him, and Ashe leaned against the vanity in exhaustion. “I cannot believe how easy that was,” she said incredulously, bending down to take off her shoes. She tossed them in a corner haphazardly and picked up the garment bag and began unpacking it in no particular order. While she managed to hang her dress on a hook on the wall, Balthier was disgusted by the way she was casually tossing makeup and accessories onto the vanity. It appeared the Princess was a slob. How had he never noticed this? Balthier grunted at his companion’s behavior and slid off his own shoes. He made a very distinct point of setting them by the door neatly, and he began arranging his own items on the writing desk for later that evening. She did not appear to be noticing the example he was setting as she continued rifling through the garment bag. Finally satisfied with his unpacking, he walked over to the bed and flopped down on his back. It was nice to have some quiet after enduring that dreadful couple’s behavior. Ashe opened the door to the bath and tossed some toiletries onto the sink and counters for her use later. When she emerged again, she saw him lying on the bed and smirked at him. “Don’t get too comfortable. We’ll need to get dressed soon.” Balthier grinned wickedly and patted the comforter beside him. “What? We still have time yet. You don’t want to consummate our blessed union? Try for an heir again?” She scowled at him and opened a bottle of some liquor at the bar. “Not a chance, pirate,” she replied and poured two drinks. “I definitely need this. I’m not used to lying about everything like some common criminal.” “You’ve done very well so far, Princess. I must say you missed your calling in the professional con artist community.” Ashe set a glass down for him on the nightstand and moved to look out the window, sipping on her drink. “This is not where I expected to be right now,” she said quietly. He sat up and leaned back against the headboard. “I know. But just think of it this way. Tonight you will attend a lavish ball full of mindless dopes. The hors d’oeuvres will be stellar, the music enchanting, and your date? Well, he’ll be the handsomest fellow at the ball. Dozens of men like that blowhard Malanga will wish to bed you but will quake in fear of upsetting your husband.” She groaned at him, and he swung his legs off the bed, taking a moment to down the liquor. The alcohol buzzing happily through his system, he grabbed his shoes and put them on once more. “Very well. We’ll find my ship, and then we can leave.” She finished her drink and set the glass down on the bar. “Where are you going?” “We have a good hour or so before we need to even bother getting dressed. I was hoping to pilfer the guest list to see if Durio’s here under an alias,” he explained as he headed to the door. “Well, then I’m coming with you,” she replied. He shook his head. “No, Princess. I don’t think you’re as stealthy as me. Though your performance thus far has been incredible, this is a job for a leading man alone.” Ashe crossed her arms. “What am I supposed to do?” He opened the door and turned back to look at her. “Go mingle I suppose? But stay away from that Malanga…” Balthier saw a twinkle in her eye at his comment. “What? Are you worried I might be unfaithful?” She approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice returning to that sweet affectation she used in her acting. “Darling, one fake romance is enough for me.” The sky pirate really wanted to consummate the marriage at this point. However, the image of Basch chasing him with a broadsword won out, and he fled the room, Ashe’s laughter echoing down the hallway after him. --------------------------------------------- An hour later, Balthier strolled back down the hallway to the Tonberry Room. He didn’t understand why the room had such a name, but it was probably one of Sir Merritt’s eccentricities that would forever remain a mystery. He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, noticing that Ashe had not yet returned from whatever mingling she may have embarked upon. He would not admit that he was severely disappointed at the lack of Her Majesty’s presence. Not for sentimental reasons, he thought quickly, but because he wanted to share his triumphant and sneaky acquisition of the guest list with her. Balthier tugged the parchment from where it presently rested up his sleeve and hopped back onto the bed. The sky pirate had daringly managed to infiltrate the butler’s quarters. The list had been placed casually atop a pile of other papers, and he would never notice it missing. He had been in and out of the room in under a minute, but sneaking back through the servants’ passageways had been the real test of his skills. But he hadn’t been caught, and he could now examine the list in the comfort of the fluffy bed. His eyes drifted over the numerous names, and he actually recognized a few of them. Some school chums from his former life, a few marks he’d robbed, but none of them were standing out as a potential Durio alias. Until he reached the bottom of the page. “You have to be joking!” he cried aloud to the silent room. The room was silent no more as the door opened, and an anxious Princess rushed in. “Oh, you’re here…” she muttered, shutting the door behind her. Ashe kicked her shoes off in the same manner she had earlier, and she hurried over to the bed. She flounced onto it and moved to sit beside him. Before he could say a word, Ashe was pulling up her dress and stretching out a nice, long leg right beside him. “Hold on a moment! I usually like to start a bit slower, Princess…” Balthier heard himself remark, but he could not bring his eyes to part with the young woman’s shapely leg. However, her ulterior motive was quickly revealed. She pulled a piece of parchment from her thigh where it had been secured with a garter. She of course gave him a look of disgust as she tugged her dress back down and showed him the parchment. “So much for the leading man. The leading lady was just as productive!” Ashe had an identical copy of the guest list he held in his own hand. But where his merely contained names, her list also had corresponding room and airship berth assignments for all the guests. “Now where in Ivalice did you get this?” he asked in surprise as he snatched the list away from her. She grinned at him and seemed very proud to have outdone him in his own profession. “If you must know all my secrets, Balthier, I suppose I could tell you. Married couples are supposed to share everything, are they not?” she remarked. He had never seen the Princess more pleased with herself. He gave her his most sincere submissive look, although Fran often remarked that it looked more like he had bad indigestion when he made that face. “Please Ashe. Please tell me where you found this.” She smirked at him. “I asked for it.” Balthier was dumbfounded. “What do you mean ‘asked’ for it?” Ashe tugged the parchment back away from him. “Just what I said! I went back to that nice porter who showed us to the room and asked for it. I said I was looking for a friend.” He was unimaginably impressed. That was…very practical of her. With all the commotion she had caused by storming back into the room, he’d forgotten the news he’d had for her. “Anyhow, well done. You have my utmost praise for your ingenuity.” She smiled again, not the least bit modest about her stunning achievement. “Did you happen to notice a certain name on the guest list?” She knew exactly what he meant. The Princess pointed to a name on the list. “Balthier Bunansa is apparently housing a small vessel in the south hangar.” The sky pirate tossed his lesser guest list aside and slid off the bed. “He steals my ship, and then comes here in MY name? Durio is going to swiftly learn the meaning of boot in the ass.” She laughed at him, and he wandered over to his own garment bag. “I suggest we get ready and head for the hangar before the ball. If the ship is there, then we’re taking it.” The Princess looked confused. “Let me understand you a moment here, Balthier. We get dressed up…and then we go to the hangar and steal the Strahl back? Don’t you think the timeline is a bit backwards?” He began to unsnap the clasps holding his vest on. “I still have a suspicion that Durio is an absolute moron, but I don’t think the Strahl is actually where it says. We still may have to inquire at the ball.” Balthier saw Ashe’s eyes follow his hands as he continued to undress. “What are you doing?” she asked quietly. “What does it look like I’m doing?” She hopped down from the bed and walked over to him. “You can do that in the bathroom.” She picked up his garment bag and threw it into the adjoining room and started picking up his cologne and other toiletries to toss them in there as well. Before she could mess up his organization, he shooed her away from his personal items. He grabbed his things and went into the bathroom, slamming the door with a satisfying bang. “This marriage is suffocating me!” he cried loudly, hearing a muffled snort in reply through the heavy wooden door. He got dressed quickly and tried to ignore the image of Her Royal Highness hitching up her dress at his side. While it had only happened minutes earlier, his mind was already enlivening the memory. By the time he was dealing with his cuff links, he was the one lifting up the silky garment to reveal the garter beneath. He had to focus. His comb was missing. He checked the entire sink area…then beneath the sink area…then beside the sink area. Frowning, he opened the door brusquely. The words “Where is my blasted comb?” formed in his mind, but they could not emerge from his mouth for the Princess was engaged in a very provocative dance in front of the full-length looking glass. Well, he supposed, if one was entirely alien to the concept of dressing up, it did look like Ashe was dancing. But it appeared that her dress was causing her a great deal of trouble. Balthier was very amused to see the long, red strapless gown clutched in one hand around her chest while the other hand swatted to reach for the ties at the back. “How did Elza tie this?” she mumbled grumpily, not yet noticing he had emerged from the bathroom. He sighed and walked over to her. Elza had two hands free when you tried it on, you silly Princess, he thought to himself. He approached, and she stopped her movements. She clutched the bodice against herself, and it appeared that it would fall to the floor if she wasn’t laced up in back. The sky pirate grabbed the two strings and began passing them through the small holes in the fabric. “Allow me…” She wrenched away from him and pressed her chest against the wall to keep the dress up, and she returned her hands to her back and began tugging the strings herself. “I can do it!” she protested. Balthier winced at the uncomfortable look on her face as her hands maneuvered behind her back. “You’re going to tear it,” he replied, locating his comb on the vanity near Ashe’s things. He pulled the comb through his hair while she continued her efforts. “I said I can do it,” she muttered, and he laughed at her attempt to thread the string through the tiny holes. He threw his comb back down on the vanity and went back to her. He slapped at her hands and yanked the strings back. “Will you just let me tie the damn dress?” She was silent and moved her hands to her front to hold the dress up. She wandered back in front of the looking glass to watch him. He smiled and pulled the strings back and forth in a zigzag. She adjusted the top of the gown while his fingers worked. “Tie it tighter.” He had been pulling as hard as he thought appropriate. “Are you sure?” he asked incredulously. Ashe rolled her eyes in the mirror at him. “It feels loose.” He gave the strings a hard tug, and she inhaled sharply. Thinking he had seriously harmed her, he went into full panic mode. But she met his eyes in the glass and nodded for him to keep going. “How do you women breathe in these contraptions?” he responded and continued his tying. It was finally laced all the way to the top, and she let her hands fall away from the top of the gown. To his dismay, it did not fall to her ankles. She smiled at her appearance, but then he saw her eyes drift to catch him watching her. He finally realized that he was standing close enough to be surgically attached to her back. They continued their unabashed staring for a few seconds more when her eyes widened. “Earrings!” she exclaimed. “What?” She turned around suddenly and reached her hands out to his face. “Whoa! What are you doing?” She grabbed his chin and moved his head sideways and began tugging on his earlobes. “You can’t wear these to the ball. You’re an aristocrat, not a pirate now,” she explained, and he had to admit that she was correct. But she wasn’t being very gentle. He allowed her to pull all of his earrings out, wincing painfully at every removal. “Tug it a bit harder, Ashe. I don’t think my ears are bleeding yet,” he grimaced. Removing the final earring, she turned back to the mirror. “Calm down, would you? Don’t be such a baby.” To his surprise, the Princess began inserting some of his jewelry into her own ears. “Oh, it’s all wrong for me, but you get to accessorize?” he complained, rubbing his reddened earlobes. She grinned and finished her preparations. “When you’re done whining, can we go check out this hangar?” The sky pirate rolled his eyes and checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. “Whenever Her Ladyship wishes to depart, her husband is ready.” She shook her head, his earrings jangling about. It wasn’t so much strange to see his jewelry adorning her as it was alluring. This little side quest of theirs was slowly evolving into something he did not yet have a word for. He opened the door and escorted his wife…er, Ashe in the direction of the airship hangar. As they walked, a question popped into Balthier’s mind. He halted her by grabbing the crook of her arm. She looked up at him, and he smiled. “If the porter just handed you the guest list…why did you tuck it under your dress like that?” She looked down and a flush spread over her face and to Balthier’s delight, to the exposed skin not covered by her dress. “Oh, no reason really,” she mumbled quietly. The Princess turned and continued down the hallway, but as another couple emerged from a room down the hall, he hurried to get behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. The sky pirate decided that their little act required them to be affectionate, and what was a little practice before the ball? He inhaled the rich floral scent of her perfume as he gently nuzzled her neck, and the other couple smiled at them. He lifted his lips to her ear. “You did that to impress me, didn’t you?” he whispered. She said nothing, and he released her. The Princess’ increasingly pink skin was the only answer he needed. He rushed to catch up with her as she nearly sprinted down the hallway.
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