The cityscape of Jidoor was aglow with the light from hundreds of streetlamps and open windows in tall townhouses as the four Returners finally alighted on the docks. Yeri put out a hand and caught Seulgi as she almost misstepped into the water, staring around them in wonder.

“It’s so…”

The way the dark trees planted in the sidewalks of the wide avenues were thrown into silhouette against the shine of lively outdoor cafes; the sounds of laughter and busking musicians mixing with the clatter of carriage wheels and chocobo talons against the cobblestone streets overwhelmed her with this romantic feeling - a fluttering, nervous energy - as they climbed the steps up from the docks.

As Irene carefully surveyed their surroundings, she couldn’t help noticing Seulgi’s face-scrunching smile, and she bit back a comment about how indulgent the scene appeared to her. She may not be able to appreciate the view in the same enchanted way that Seulgi did, but that didn’t mean she had to spoil the mood. But when Seulgi turned that goofy grin her way, she was struck with the thought that perhaps this detour wasn’t quite so troublesome after all.

Seulgi’s joy was short-lived, however, as the queen spoke up: “First, you’re going to have to lose the hat, farm girl.”

Seulgi pulled the brim of her wide, soft hat down over her ears. “What? What’s wrong with my hat?” she protested.

“Nothing’s… wrong with it,” Joy backtracked a little, seeing how she seemed to have mortally offended the rancher. “It’s just that… operas are kind of a dressy affair. Even I’m going to have to find something a little classier to wear,” she added with a gesture at her plate.

“Is a clothing store even going to be open this late?” Seulgi asked. She hadn’t checked the clock in their ship’s cabin before coming ashore, but Jidoor’s nightlife seemed to be well underway.

“Seulgi, my dear~” Joy intoned haughtily. “We’re not going to a store. We’re going to a tailor. And you seem to have forgotten that I’m the Queen of Figaro. In a place like Jidoor, a store is open if I say it’s open~”

Yeri rolled her eyes so hard, she nearly lost her balance. “Although, I suppose I am wondering what someone like Irene might look like in a dress.”

“Keep wondering. I’m not wearing a dress. What if we have to fight?” the ex-general asked, shutting the blonde down in her emotionless tone.

“That’s a shame,” Seulgi heard herself say before she could stop herself. “U-uh so does that mean suits?” she added hastily to Joy.

Yeri smirked while Irene raised an eyebrow.

Joy tapped her lips in thought. “... I suppose suits could work.” She looked Seulgi up and down for a moment. “Yeah… just maybe.”

+++

Seulgi had never been fitted for a suit before. In fact, she had never been fitted for anything outside of the comfort of her own rural home, so to awkwardly stand there and have attendants circle her with measuring tape while the Queen of Figaro discussed fabrics with the designer was proving to be a rather surreal experience.

“How quickly can you have these made up?” Joy asked the owner as she finished making her selections.

“Well, your Highness, you’re ordering for four, and between the refittings, and the lateness of the hour…”

Joy raised an eyebrow and took out her coin purse. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Here’s an advance. We need them by the end of the day tomorrow- wait not that one,” she suddenly said as she plucked a coin out of the purse she had passed over to the proprietor.

She pocketed it and turned to Seulgi. “How are you doing over there?” she asked with a wry grin.

“Fine…?” Seulgi half-asked, half-answered. The tailors finally left her alone to write down her measurements and begin sewing.

“Good. Well, we have some time to kill while they work. Do you want to get something to eat?”

“Eat?”

“You know, something other than the stale sailor’s rations on the ship?” Joy said with a small smile. If she was already going to be spending this much money on new clothes for everyone, she might as well treat the rancher to a late dinner. After all, it was Seulgi’s first, and possibly only night she would ever get to spend in Jidoor.

Much to the clothier’s dismay, Joy plucked a few more coins out of the purse she had handed him and tossed them to Seulgi. “Why don’t you see if you can find Irene and go get something to eat while we wait?”

“Oh, alright. Where’s Yeri?” Seulgi asked innocently.

Joy’s grin widened. “Don’t worry about her; you two go on ahead.”

Seulgi blinked at her but eventually shrugged and stepped down from the stool she had been standing on. She reached out for her hat which Joy had made her leave on the counter, but the queen caught Seulgi by the wrist.

“Leave it.”

“But-”

“Seulgi, just trust me on this,” Joy ordered as she fluffed out Seulgi’s hair and fixed her long bangs.

Seulgi pouted in such a childlike manner that Joy almost wavered on her edict, but the poor hat had just about seen its last from their prolonged journey. Joy made a mental note to get the country girl a new one before they left Jidoor.

“Now go. I think I saw Irene next door at the candlemaker.”

+++

Irene had her nose in a candle when Seulgi suddenly appeared behind her. Caught in a rare moment of flatfootedness, she quickly replaced the large candle on its shelf and eyed Seulgi warily.

“Wh- ...Are you done with your fitting?” she asked, and Seulgi noted how she sounded startled.

She decided against pointing it out. “Yeah…” Seulgi glanced around the shop. It was full of decorative candles, some carved ornately, many in various colors, and in a variety of scents. Given Irene’s utilitarian attitude about most things, Seulgi was frankly surprised to see her in here. When Joy had said ‘candlemaker’, Seulgi had imagined the more rustic vats of wax with tallows hanging in spartan rows to dry, a far cry from this artisanal shop. “It smells nice in here,” she added.

Irene glanced at the candle she had been smelling and then back at Seulgi. “Where are the others?” she asked, unwilling to add to Seulgi’s comment.

“Oh, uh, Joy said to go on ahead without them,” Seulgi explained, suddenly feeling a little shy. “She said we should find something to eat.”

“Just the two of us?” Irene asked suspiciously.

Seulgi shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.” Seulgi had been the last to go in for her fitting and hadn’t realized the others weren’t going to wait around for her. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

That skeptical look hadn’t left Irene’s features, but she cautiously nodded. “Yeah, let’s go…” What exactly was Joy up to? It was dangerous to split up in an independent city like Jidoor, a place where loyalties could shift on a bored whim.

Seulgi followed Irene back out of the shop and they walked down the boulevard. She almost immediately began to trail behind as she was once again struck by the quiet, yet fevered energy of Jidoor’s nightlife. As they passed one of the many busy cafes, she saw men standing around a table in coattailed suits laughing as they waved their wide bourbon snifters, while women spoke to each other conspiratorially behind lace fans. Even though the scene made her feel wildly out of place, she couldn't help smiling, seeing how everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Everyone except for one ex-Imperial General Bae Irene, that was. Irene waited for Seulgi to catch up, then fell into step with her as they continued on, and Seulgi genuinely wondered how she could remain so impassive in such a festive atmosphere. She was about to make some small comment to that effect when Irene grabbed her arm and pulled her up onto the sidewalk as a barouche and its cheering occupants raced past, pulled along by a pair of chocobos.

While it was clear to Irene that Seulgi’s wide-eyed enjoyment of Jidoor was likely going to end with the ranch hand trampled in the gutter, she didn't have the heart to scold her. Not when Seulgi turned that smile her way and thanked her for the timely rescue.

And maybe all the lights and activity were having an effect on her, too, because Irene didn't release Seulgi's arm again for several blocks.

Though Joy had instructed them to find something to eat, Irene seemed to be walking them back towards the water, and Seulgi was quiet as she was led along. They could see the pier stretch out along the shore away from them, the glow from its lines of shops reflecting in the black water of the harbor.

Irene finally released her and Seulgi couldn’t help but notice the immediate loss of warmth. There were couples here and there, strolling along the waterfront: a man carrying his top hat in the crook of his arm while his lady companion smacked his arm with her folded fan, giggling; another woman playfully taking the monocle from her friend and wearing it in a mocking imitation, but Seulgi quickly turned away, sensing the mood between those two become suddenly serious. She laughed quietly to herself, marveling at how leisurely everyone in this city seemed.

But Irene saw through it. Sure, there were people in Jidoor who were genuinely searching for a bit of happiness in these war-torn times, but she had seen the other side of these kinds of engagements far too often to believe in their innocence. A cocktail party was rarely simply that; it was more often a carefully calculated meeting between parties who needed to build rapport for social or political gain. These flirting couples were likely nothing more than scandalous liaisons between parties already betrothed or married off for familial alliances, and if the affair got out, it would become a black mark on one of their illustrious houses. The numerous functions she had been forced to appear at, in attendance to the Emperor of Gestahl had taught her as much.

She wished she could see the world through Seulgi’s eyes, as she leaned with her back on the railing of the pier, watching the younger girl. She could guess what Seulgi thought of all of these people, as evidenced by her shy, innocent laugh, but she wanted to hear it. She wanted a brief reprieve from her own negative thoughts.

“What do you think?” she asked quietly.

Seulgi’s smile wavered as she looked over at Irene, relaxed, yet poised against the backdrop of the warf and its shimmer of lights.

“It’s… like nothing I’ve ever experienced before,” she replied.

Irene squinted at her, already feeling the hint of a smile tug at her lips. “Explain.”

Seulgi looked away and blinked. This city and its atmosphere was putting her in a strange mood. Since when had she been so shy and self-conscious? But she already knew the answer to that: it was when she had realized that Irene looked prettiest to her in low lighting, in the quiet of a late night.

Irene was waiting for her to describe what she felt about the city of Jidoor, so she tried to focus her attention back to the feverish feeling of excitement she had experienced before, back on boulevard, instead of this new, different kind of nervousness that was blooming in her chest.

“Everything just feels so carefree here,” she began. It was such a stark contrast to the dreariness of Zozo and the martial attitude of Albrook. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, and it’s all so bright and… beautiful.” She risked a glance at Irene and saw that the dark-haired girl was giving her a small smile, in wry amusement. So what if Irene thought she was being naive? If it made her smile…

“Mobliz is a rural community; lots of farms and tradespeople. Everything shuts down pretty early there, but here?” Seulgi said with a sweeping gesture as she backed up.

“Seulgi, watch out-!” Irene called, darting forward to grab at her, but it was too late.

Seulgi backed into a richly dressed gentleman and knocked him to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” she immediately apologized, as she reached out to help him up.

But he smacked her hand away. “Don’t touch me, you filthy cur!” he growled. “How dare you! A street urchin like yourself!” he sneered, eyeing her work clothes. “The nerve!” And Seulgi thought she could detect the smell of alcohol on his breath as he huffed and stood up. He raised a hand as if he were going to strike her. “Know your place, peasant!”

“Hey!” Irene shouted at him as she placed herself in front of Seulgi. “You want someone to fight, why don’t you try me?”

He eyed her hand upon the hilt of her sabre and sized her up. “Pff, if that is your wish, little girl,” he drawled as he drew a thin rapier. “I’ll take great pleasure teaching you waifs a lesson! Engarde!”

And the richly dressed gentleman found himself lying in the street once again, but this time with the tip of Irene’s sabre hovering just in front of his nose. “Now which one of us belongs in the street?” she asked him quietly as he stared up at her, red with indignation. Seulgi carefully reached out to pull Irene away. They had already gained the attention of many passersby and she knew they were be trying to keep a relatively low profile.

“I-I think he gets the point. We should go…”

Irene glanced around and quickly sheathed her blade. “You’re right. Let’s get back to the ship,” she muttered.

Seulgi wasn’t sure what had startled her more about the encounter: the sudden breaking of the illusion she had created in her mind about this city and its denizens, or Irene’s flash of temper and brashness in her defense.

+++

Joy the coin she had retrieved from the clothier, feeling the press of its embossed sides through her gloves. She would have been more than a little angry at herself for accidentally spending it.

After looking around, she spied Yeri coming out of a bakery down the street with an armful of goods, and her hurried gait put the queen ill at ease. The world-famous ‘treasure hunter’ gave her a frantic smile as she ran past, and Joy found herself obliged to follow.

The two ran down the boulevard for several blocks until Yeri finally ducked down a quiet alley and paused against the side of a stone townhouse. She laughed as Joy caught up and passed her a baguette.

“You know we could have bought these,” Joy growled as she grumpily accepted the loaf. “And I swear if you say ‘old habits’...” she warned as she tore off a hunk and angrily bit into it.

“What’s the fun in paying for it?” Yeri teased cheekily. Seeing her old gang again might have tempted her back into her old ways, but there were layers to Yeri’s train of thought. “Besides, do you think a store here will really miss a few sales?”

“The store owners aren’t the ones whom you should focus those kinds of attentions on,” Joy lectured around a mouthful of bread. “They’re not as well off as their patrons. And besides, we shouldn’t be going out of our way to make enemies in a neutral city. Save that for when we reach Vector.”

“I wouldn’t touch bread from a bakery in Vector,” Yeri scoffed in disgust as she partook of her stolen goods. “I can only imagine what they feed people there to make them that awful and cruel,” she continued, all hints of her mischievousness attitude gone.

“Irene’s from there,” Joy reminded her. “And that Commander Jung isn’t so bad,” she recalled to herself as she chewed thoughtfully.

“Irene’s different,” Yeri protested. “She didn’t know any better - she’d been in their military since she was a kid!”

“You’re awfully selective in your forgiveness,” Joy noted.

Yeri regarded her grumpily as she ate.

“I think the people of Maranda probably have a few choice words for her,” Joy continued. “A lot of people in the Empire are just doing what they’re told, you know. Many of them probably aren’t even aware of all the horrible things their commanders are up to.”

“You’re not going to try to humanize them to me,” Yeri broke in darkly. She offered the last roll to Joy, suddenly losing her appetite.

Joy accepted it, but didn’t eat. “But they are just people, Yeri. You can’t let this keep eating away at you. I said I’d help you get your revenge, but after that? We need to think about how we’re going to end this war. Think about Doma. Is that what you want to happen to Vector?”

Yeri couldn’t tell if she was talking to her friend, or to the Queen of Figaro, and it was frustrating her. Vector was more than just the iron ziggurat of the Emperor; it was a sprawling metropolis with hundreds of thousands of normal people living there, too. She knew that. She knew that.

“Cait Sith, Joy! Of course I don’t want that! Ugh!” she growled as she pounded her fist against the stone wall. “But I don’t care how nice you think those other officers are. You’re not going to stop me when we reach the fortress.” It wasn’t a request.

Joy passed the last roll back and Yeri took it before she realized what she was doing.

“Come on, let’s take a walk.”

It seemed that they both needed to clear their thoughts.

As they strolled along the sidewalk with its trees planted at measured intervals and it’s buggies and carriages parked in front of the opulent residences, Yeri felt herself begin to relax. The scene was so hyperbolic and foreign, and it drew her thoughts back to their impending attendance at the opera. She had been to the Opera House down on the peninsula before, but she had never attended a show there. She guessed it would make her feel much like she did now: out of place to the point that it made her laugh with the absurdity of it. How could people stand to live like this?

Joy noticed that Yeri was suddenly chuckling to herself and she creased her brow in apprehension. When Yeri laughed, trouble was usually soon to follow.

“What’s so funny?” she asked cautiously.

“Just this,” Yeri said with a vague wave of her hand at the street. “How long have we known each other? Two or three years?” A long time for a rebel group to survive in the face of opposition as ruthless as the Empire. “You fit in so naturally here, but me?” She did best in the shadows and on the road, not in the public sphere like Joy.

“I mean look,” Yeri said as she walked ahead of queen, gesturing at the tall buildings with their decorative facades and balconies overlooking the street. “Can you imagine trying to live in such a stuffy place like this?”

Joy could very easily imagine it.

The Kingdom of Figaro was much more spartan than a place like Jidoor, but Joy did have a certain lifestyle she was obliged to maintain, especially to keep her family’s honor intact.

But she was glad that Yeri was at least smiling again, even if it was in mockery of the aristocracy she belonged to.

“Do you know how we spent our free time in Zozo?” the blonde continued. “Dice. Or cards. Or starting fights in the bars. But here?” She gestured at a long line of posters for the Opera House that papered a stone wall - most were copies of the current season's show, but some were from seasons past.

“They go to the opera,” she said snidely. “The Dream Oath,” she read aloud from one faded advertisement. “Starring… Hey Joy, look!” Yeri said, her mocking tone disappearing in an instant. “Sooyoung, just like you...” Yeri’s voice died as she saw Joy staring at the actress’s painted likeness on the poster. “Wait, is that-?”

“She seems to be doing well, huh?” Joy said quietly, her fist tight around the coin in her pocket.