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So here you are. They've been searching high and low for you.
I do hope this day finds Your Royal Highness in better spirits than those past.
Do not mock me!
Please. I could not bear it.
That was cruel of me. I am sorry.
What do you mean to do with me?
I am not Ovelia.
There can be no value in holding me.
No value even in my living.
You're right. You are not the Princess Ovelia.
We do not even know your rightful name.
Whether even you be highborn, or low.
I had often wondered.
Of the royal family, why must I alone be confined to a remote monastery, so far removed from the seat of our Crown?
Even this I thought a burden light enough, if it meant the kingdom would know peace.
I played my part, yet still Ivalice runs red with blood.
All this suffering and solitude.
For what?
It has been the same for me.
I was given the wardrobe of a nobleman, and so I played the part.
A puppet, ever dancing for the amusement of patrons unseen.
This wretched world does not reward endeavor.
It is the patron and his troupe who are receipt... maggots grown fat on endeavor's corse.
Most men but play the part they're given.
Most live and die not knowing they play a part at all.
But I am past all that now.
I am their unwitting puppet no more.
No more...
I will exact from them the price of their gluttonous feast!
And just what is it you plan to do to them?
I will burn down this kingdom, and from its ashes build for you a new one... a kingdom worthy of you.
I will show you a world where your light will outshine the sun!
A world that will know no darkness.
And you will have no more need of tears.
Such a world... is it possible?
I will not fail you in this.
On Tietra's soul, I swear it to you.
Dry your tears.