Seth of all people knew that Amelia was an eager recruit, but her enthusiasm as a knight was nigh-on indescribable. She threw herself into the restoration of Magvel with all the vigour she had in the throes of battle. One thing Seth envied about her was the fluidity of identity her youth granted her; she was a girl of Grado, yes, but also one of all of Magvel. She loved Renais and her homeland equally, fuelled by the love for the friends she had made in both countries, and was filled with determination to work for them both.

Seth, on the other hand, was a knight of Renais once and always. While he played his part in Grado, even agreeing to temporarily station himself there to help in the rebuilding efforts, he considered the land a detached ally before the war and a memento of disaster after it. War had made him more lenient, seeing Renais as less of a valhalous cornerstone and more of a mortal land he was obliged to protect. But his position meant there were places he belonged and places he didn't, and his spirit and reputation were forever sealed in Renais whether his body was or not. And that was where he counted down the days to return to after his mission was done.

To help the people back home bide the time through the months, he wrote three letters to be sent back to Renais. One to his king, Ephraim. One to his trusted knights and true friends, Forde and Kyle. And one to Eirika, who perhaps kept his heart bound to Renais with a tighter grip than his sense of duty ever would.

Amelia, with her free-wheeling to-do list, agreed to carry the letters back to Renais, riding with some knights seeking a supply restock. He had grown so fond of the girl that he did not consider that she might not be well-suited to the task until he saw her off with the group. She risked letting go of her reins for a moment, earning disgruntled looks from the surrounding riders, to dig into her bag and pull out the trio of letters, swivelling around to wave them back at him triumphantly.

"I won't let you down, General Seth!" she called out giddily, followed by a yelp as her horse made a particularly jaunty trot. She only grabbed back ahold of her reins at the very last moment with both hands, crumpling the letters slightly in her fist.

He really ought not to grow so soft in future.

—

Eirika returned from her duties just as the summer sun began its descent to find a cream envelope on her desk. The seal told her it was a document from someone high-ranking, but she already had an idea of what it could be.

Long weeks had passed since her last correspondence with Seth, made ever longer by her new role. Being a bringer of peace only began with the end of the war. Peace wouldn't envelope the land until the settlements bloomed again like the flowers they planted for luck. And she had a duty to facilitate it.

Seth understood something of duty. His letters were longing, but never tinged by bitterness that they could not be side by side quite yet. They were loving, but understanding. Passionate but patient.

She lifted the envelope in her fingers, the lightest thing she had held today after the crown jewels or crates of provisions or a widow's hands, and turned it over only to find it unlabelled. It must have been personally delivered. She slipped a letter opening knife through the top carefully and unfolded the letter with great intrigue.

To my good knights, Sirs Forde and Kyle,

As you have always expected, our restoration is thriving, and Magvel is poised for a great peace…

Eirika paused. A letter for Forde and Kyle, in her chamber? But it was surely Seth's careful handwriting, and the small degree of fondness proved it was for them...

Her eyes widened as the pieces fell together, slowly, and then all at once. Personally delivered. Several letters written for people in the capital.

A letter about a love kept quiet was in the hands of someone else.

Eirika straightened her skirts and retreated from her chambers with a rapid march she'd picked up in dire situations over the wartime. Hopefully the two knights would be in the barracks still, and they hadn't opened the letter they believed to be theirs…

—

"Lady Eirika!" Kyle dropped to a bow the moment she entered the room, a small retreat that was near-deserted this late in the evening. As expected, his companion took slightly longer, more out of doziness than disrespect. His attention was quite occupied by the cream envelope in his hand, that Eirika noted with dismay, had been ripped open.

"Good evening, Sirs Forde, Kyle." She regarded them with a polite nod that she had learned was expected of her. As if all the etiquette in the world would cover her deep embarrassment. "That letter of yours." She lifted the envelope she still carried in one hand. "I believe this one was meant to be for the two of you."

"You know, that makes an awful lot of sense," remarked Forde, tipping his own letter in her direction. "Considering this one from Seth is addressed to the king. I thought we'd been promoted for a moment, there, but young Amelia seems to have made a mistake with her deliveries."

Kyle fixed him with a sharp glare. "Apologies, Princess. I told Forde to put the letter away as soon as we realised who it was to, but he couldn't seem to stop his eyes from wandering."

Forde shrugged leisurely. "That's true, I could not. It was all business anyway. I'm sure ours will be the same." For all the laziness of his reactions, Forde still made the connection long before Kyle. "Say, Lady Eirika, if I have the King's letter and you have ours, where must yours be?"

"I dread to think," she muttered, more to herself, but it was lost on neither of the knights. Kyle's eyes dropped to the floor while Forde's mouth twitched into an undeniable smile.

"Would you rather I asked for it?" he offered, but Eirika shook her head.

"No. He would have to have found out eventually."

"Perhaps he hasn't reached it yet," suggested Kyle. "He has a great many documents to sift through nowadays."

"I'd rather not be that hopeful. Even he pays enough attention to recognise a letter from Seth."

"Then I bid you good luck, milady," said Forde, and his arm reached out as if to slap her on the shoulder before remembering who she was.

Which was a pity. Maybe the encouragement would have made this explanation easier.

—

"Brother?" Eirika peered at the hinges of the door to Ephriam's study as if she could see through the crack. It would be nice to know what to expect, but she didn't seem to have that luxury.

Footsteps padded across stone floor and the door eased open for what felt like several years before her brother came into sight.

He looked as he did any other day, not as though he had made some drastic discovery. Somewhat exhausted, dark-circled and drawn-out, but also somehow wiser and more refined than he had before he had taken the throne. Neater clothes and a straighter gait, but also as though the crown had injected some deep sense of devotion that he carried with him in his very blood.

But no sign of sudden shock at the realisation his sister was in love, and given straight from the horse's mouth.

"Eirika?" He heaved the old door the last few inches and gave her room to step inside. She immediately scanned the wooden desk and its stacks and stacks of papers (how long had he been reading those?) but saw no sign of the exact envelope. The relief complimented the calm she always seemed to feel with her brother's presence.

"Seth wrote you a letter." She held up the new envelope, and cringed slightly at the jagged tears Forde had made while scrabbling for it. "But it was mistakenly given to Forde and Kyle. And theirs to me."

He took it from her graciously and turned around to pace the room while he read. He still mouthed the words slightly as he read them, Eirika noted fondly. Just like Lyon had taught him to do when he had trouble reading in his head as a child.

"It seems like all is in order then," he said suddenly, lifting his gaze from the letter to fix it directly on Eirika. "He says all is well in Grado. The group may well be able to move on soon."

There was something testing in the way he watched her. "Well, sister, did you not receive a letter from him as well?"

Eirika narrowed her eyes before she caught sight of the wastepaper basket beside Ephraim's desk. It was quite full, but a cream envelope lay crumpled on top of the heap. And atop all the documents on his desk laid a letter in Seth's hand.

He was not testing. He was laughing. Making fun.

"That was quite private."

"Yes, it was."

"Oh, don't look at me like that. It wasn't filth."

"It was awfully detailed."

"Well, I prefer him that way."

"I'm sure you do."

She splayed her hands in exasperation. "Oh, brother, you're intolerable. I thought you would be upset. Or shocked. Or defensive."

"I'll have you know I was quite shocked at first, and I fully intend on being defensive." He grinned at her madly. "The moment he returns, I'll happily point my lance at his throat until he swears to treat you exceptionally well. But upset? Never. I'm glad to see you happy."

"Thank you," she replied, finding herself quite soothed. "I mean, for the happiness. Not the playfighting you won't give up on."

"Oh, I won't. Perhaps we should spar sometime. You could surely hold your own, after everything."

Eirika snorted. "Never in my life."

"Then I'll have to save all my energy for when Seth duels for your hand."

"Oh, enough, brother. I don't enjoy watching the two of you thump each other over the head with swords."

"Isn't that what you'd consider romantic? I mean, he certainly extended quite a lot of other offers in that letter." He snatched it up and read in a comedically stiffer, Seth-like voice. "Sweet Eirika, I would lift mountains to see your darling face once more- "

"Good. Night," Eirika snapped.

She spun on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her with a good deal of dignity before she realised her mistake. She slipped back into the room in silence to be greeted with the knowing smile of her brother, snatched the letter out of his hand and mumbled her thanks, and made her way out again with much less fanfare.

Ephraim's familiar laughter wafted through the air as she walked down the hallway, as though his endless good spirits accompanied her wherever she went.