[Aerith knows that... despite the careful stepping Tifa is doing, eventually many complicated things will come up. She finds herself distinctly more appreciative of that slow and gradual approach. Balthier has been rather pointed about the whole thing, which is something she can understand. But it hasn't been easy to weather his fire.

She settles onto her elbows, trying to formulate how she's going to have that conversation when they get to it. How to word everything. The order in which she should go through things. As if she's trying to plot for every conceivable situation. That's not really possible, but Aerith finds that's how she is on the inside. She wants a plan of action. If she can make one, anyway. For several moments, she indulges in a long drink and even afterwards, she simply rests her lips to the rim of her teacup.

And then she sets it down.]

Her name is Fran. I haven't met her personally, but Balthier has talked about her with me a little bit. She arrived not too long ago and when she did, he came by the shop and I told him I wanted to welcome her with flowers, so I asked for him to describe her.

[There's a pause for several long moments. She never forgets how he spoke of her. Almost as if she was some goddess. Frankly, he seemed enamoured. She chooses not to say as much.]

Based on what he told me, I put together a bouquet that I thought would suit her and he took it back. I told him if she liked her flowers that I'd give her an actual potted plant and that's what this is for.