[to read this arc from its beginning, click here.]
though amaru and alphonse may never come to meet, it is destined that they would share a bond of consanguinity that transcends their ancestral rivalry, or their gender kinship. but, far from taking concern of their metaphysical linkage, let us consider both in their respective roles in courting and questioning the enigmatic fermastika.
alphonse carries the burden and the sign of aristocracy in his blood. he is well versed in the rigidities of social contracts and nuances of the unspoken languages. he is trained, by force and by nature, to be one of the elite of the populace - to converse with poetry and to sing in verse, to eat from silver platters and drink exclusively ambrosia, to deal with the dealings of only gold and nothing less. perhaps rare jewels, too, and possibly tin and coloured servants, but that is another matter. succinctly, if society were segregated into caste of crusts, he is the creme de la creme de la creme.
and so it comes, unsurprisingly, that upon falling for fermastika, alphonse had made it his every goal to win her heart. failing that, however, he would settle for winning her lips and her touch, for in his mind, those are one and the same. like a talismanic demi-god bestowed with cult-like fervour, he diverted his every resource in a zealous display of power and affection.
hundreds of gifts were sent, ranging from betel nut to jewelry, thousands of ufti were offered, from silk-embroidered cotton-dresses to bunga mas. on the peninsula, gargantuan idolatries were served in constructing statues of worship. effigies were made and distributed, to become household necessities, and the people came to know fermastika in such closeness, that myth and legend had blanded and blended for a while, rendering the powers of said puteri meaningless almost devoid. although this would seem unfavourable and even despicable an ends for fermastika, one should never underestimate the lunacies, logic bereft when one is in love. or at least while one is being wooed so strongly.
and so, the vulgar display of meaningless trivialities, but expensive showering continued. and did not stop yet there. positions of power were created and bodies of politics were erected to accompany and cater the every whim of our princess. national holidays and melodious anthems were construct, as construct of alphonse's weaving web of wily ways set into motion spiraling- and sand-pit traps for fermastika. blinded by adoration and fuelled by love, neither were lucid to the lies each played upon the other, nor were either to those they played upon themselves.
this would continue such that, every bystander would notice, every pedestrian would know of the ill intent from alphonse, and like a scar upon his handsome face, so would any and all ill-gotten gains which would come from his frivolities with fermastika. but, that is past the climax of this story, and it is with apologies and waving of our hands that we leave that aside, just as we do with the case of alphonse's courting because we have garnered all that we need to know of it - beautiful and expressive as it may have been, his love and its declaration to fermastika would and will always be just that: a declaration. one without much substance, and one without any puja, alphonse had won what he had set out to gain.
alphonse would go on to win fermastika's body and lust, but far from winning her whole, that would be the end of it. which suited him just fine. and what of fermastika's feeling in this grotesque puppet show of emotions and deception? we will probably never know, for is that not how all the intricacies of a woman's heart can allow?