"Er, milord?"

Chrom turned around, looking up from a strategy manual through which he had been leafing. That voice was recognizable anywhere. "Yes, Frederick?"

"I've gotten reports of a young lady who's wandered into camp… They let her in and set aside a tent for her. But the thing is that she's…"

"Spit it out, Frederick, I don't have all night to figure out what the issue is."

Frederick nodded. "As you wish, milord. I believe she's… a prostitute. I… I will leave it up to you as to what to do."

Chrom nodded, shaking his head after dismissing Frederick. Although several of the Shepherds were really too kind, he was going to have to draw the line and keep in check whomever had taken her in. He couldn't allow an impure woman in camp, but all the same, it was his job to check in on her and see if anything was the matter with her. After all, there had to be a reason why they'd let her in.

Opening the flap of the tent, he peered in to see a slim figure hiding her face. She had long red hair and was dressed in a black, lacy negligee, though she covered her chest with her arms, seemingly embarrassed. Chrom looked at the oddly familiar face of the woman. Was she—one of Phila's—

As soon as she noticed he was there, she screamed. "Don't look at me!" the girl cried, turning her face away from him. As a royal, Chrom didn't have much reason to acknowledge prostitutes. She probably wondered why he was even looking at her, knowing the extreme divide in social status. But he was not about to turn her away, especially if she were one of Phila's pegasus knights.

"Please, let me see your face, milady," he managed, looking at her even as she turned away. "I believe we may know each other."

"No way! Chr—I mean, you can't see me like this!"

He looked at her long red hair again. He was sure it had to be her. "Cordelia?"

"Gods! This is mortifying!" She sounded close to tears. Still refusing to turn around, she said shamefully, "Yes. I am Cordelia."

"Well, uh—perhaps if you turn around, we could talk things out?" Chrom suggested. "Now that I know who you are, I will not refuse you shelter. But I want to see your face, if I am able."

She sighed, reluctantly turning around to face him. Her cheeks were a deep red, nearly maroon. Although it was summertime and quite hot outside still, he was extremely shocked to see her so flushed. Makeup ran down her cheeks as she sweated it off, her breathing slightly labored by her apparent dehydration.

"C-Cordelia? Are you ill?" He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. "Gods, you're burning up!"

"I-it's n-nothing," she stuttered, looking down at the floor of the tent. "I—"

Determined, Chrom said, "I must attend to that fever at once. You can't be wandering around like this. You need water."

"Maybe it was given to me by a customer..." She coughed, wiping at her eyes.

Chrom gazed concernedly, sternly at her. The young prodigy of the pegasus knights, the adroit and nimble counterpart to Sumia's clumsy accidental genius, had somehow ended up as a deathly feverish indecent woman stumbling over her words and sweating buckets. This was not the Cordelia of whom Phila had always sang praises, and this was not the Cordelia whom Chrom observed whenever he watched the knights train. Something terrible had happened to her; she needed help. His first duty was to make her feel comfortable. So he asked her, "Cordelia, are you feeling lightheaded? Do you need water? Are you hungry?"

"Water, please... I am a bit dizzy..."

"Can you lie down on your cot until I've returned?" Chrom asked her.

"A-anything for you, milord." She coughed weakly as Chrom rushed out of the tent. He snatched the nearest canteen he could find. A sloshing sound confirmed that it was filled, and he ran instantly back to the tent. He was about to open the canteen to hold it up to her mouth and help her drink, but she was not moving or even breathing. Cordelia seemed to be completely unconscious. Panicking, Chrom took a reflective piece off of his armor and held it under her mouth. It barely fogged up; she was still breathing. He sighed in relief and propped her head up, pouring a bit of water in to try to revive her, but she didn't stir. He noticed how pale she had become in the few minutes it had taken him to find the canteen. Her condition had become dire incredibly quickly. He needed extra assistance. Sticking his head and shoulders out of the tent's opening, he called, "Lissaaaa!"

While he waited for her to arrive, Chrom monitored Cordelia's weak breaths, making sure he wouldn't have to supplement hers with his own. It was his last resort in this case; as the leader of the Shepherds, he couldn't afford a flu like hers. He was just carefully checking under her eyelids when Lissa ran in. "What is it, Chrom?" she asked breathlessly, trying to look beyond him at where Cordelia was lying.

"Her condition is urgent, but she's very ill, and I think it would be unwise of me to, well, give her mouth-to-mouth. So I need your help."

"Oh, is this the girl they found outside camp? Okay," she said, but when she saw the patient, she balked. "Chrom, she's—"

"She needs our help no matter her social status! I will not stand by and let someone who has taken refuge here die."

Lissa frowned slightly but acquiesced, nodding. She held her staff in front of her, and with a flick of her wrist, Cordelia began to stir. Already, the latter was much less pale or flushed, her complexion instead returning to a normal shade. She coughed and began to open her eyes. Although staves could not cure illness all the time, when Chrom set the back of his hand against Cordelia's forehead, he noticed that she had begun to cool down. "I think she'll be okay from here on out," Chrom said. "Thank you, sister."

"No problem! I just hope she's... all right," Lissa said somewhat warily before heading out of the tent. Chrom looked back at Cordelia, grabbing the canteen, propping her head up, and dripping water into her mouth. She coughed slightly before fluttering her eyelids a few times. Yes; she was finally waking back up!

She opened her swollen eyes and looked up at Chrom, her mouth slightly parted, her breathing just beginning to regulate itself. "Cordelia? Are you with me?" he asked hesitantly, looking into her half-opened eyes.

"Chrom? ...What happened? … I..."

"Whatever's happened, Cordelia, you're safe with us now. Lissa patched you up a bit. You might still feel a bit tired or sick, so I want you to get your rest."

"A-anything for you. I-I mean anything you command, Captain..." She sighed, her cheeks seeming to flush slightly again before she closed her eyes. As soon as he knew that she was asleep, Chrom leaned over and, picking the blanket off of the floor, stood up and tucked her in. He looked upon her for a fleeting second—she did have a pleasing, fair face, but there was a melancholy element about it. He would not ask unless she decided to tell. If she wished to join after what had happened to her, Chrom knew he would have to keep her secret. Phila had always told him about how hard Cordelia pushed herself and strove for a perfect self-image. To keep the secret, Chrom knew he would have to personally monitor her until she would be ready to fight again. It might be a few days, or even just a few hours, but he couldn't let anyone in to see her. What was in order first would be getting her some proper clothing, and of course, getting her well enough again to fight. That would all start tomorrow. First, he had to head to bed.

"Are you awake?"

Cordelia blinked briefly before she started to focus in on the face in front of her. That sweet smile, that blue hair, and those soft eyes were unmistakable—

"Gods—Chrom?! What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!" Her eyes opened wide as she sat up in bed, lunging forward.

Chrom backed away from her. "I-I'm sorry, Cordelia, if I was a bit close to you." His expression dropped slightly, becoming more serious, as he asked, "But do you not remember what happened last night?"

She couldn't look him in the eyes. Last night?! And she was still in her... getup, with no one else aside from them in this tent?! "What do you mean, 'last night?!'" she cried.

Oblivious, Chrom continued, "Someone in camp found you in the clothes you're wearing now. You were very sick, but Lissa was able to help you out with her staff. I'll be watching over you until you have healed up and are ready to join the Shepherds in combat."

Cordelia's eyes widened even more. Chrom had already seen her in her getup? And his little sister? Moreover, she would be staying in a tent with Chrom for a day, a few days, whatever length of time... She felt about ready to pass out.

"I know what you're thinking, Cordelia," he said, furrowing his brow. "But Lissa didn't see your face. I'm the only one who is aware of your situation. And I've chosen to watch over you for that reason. After all, I'm thinking you would be embarrassed if others knew about your situation, knowing how highly you, well, value your image." He paused, looking at her. "Is everything all right? I'm sorry you didn't have much of a say in all of this."

All Cordelia could do was nod weakly. She was beyond mortified that Chrom, of all people, had seen her in her getup and knew her secret. Yet despite the emotions racking her, she knew that she had to stay strong and try her hardest to put on a good front for Chrom. It could be her only chance to... She met Chrom's blue eyes with her own. No, she couldn't possibly try to get closer to him now... Attempting to shake off her thoughts, but unable to control her blushing around Chrom, Cordelia whispered, "I-I'm grateful. Please d-don't worry about me."

Chrom sighed in relief, and paused before asking, "Well, do you want some breakfast? I brought some for each of us, but I've already eaten mine. I had just done so in case you would need help eating."

"Oh, g-gods, I can do that myself," she said, stumbling over her words as she reached for the tray and set it on her lap. Eating oatmeal, she thought about how every time she tried to talk to Chrom, she felt as if she did have a mouth that was full of oatmeal. She knew exactly what she wanted to say—or might have known when she was planning or otherwise fantasizing about possible conversational beginnings, endings, and middles—but something about his voice, his kind heart, his gentle eyes, his strong and slender arms made her begin to forget whatever conversation she'd prepared. She just couldn't be calm around him. Even now, as she was eating her breakfast, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him. He was simply polishing the legendary blade and looking up at her from time to time to make sure she wouldn't pass out or choke on her food, but because he was Chrom, everything he did was extremely attractive to her. Even after she'd finished her breakfast, she continued to stare, watching as his shiny, soft blue hair fell into his face, as he blew it away from his nose with a hasty breath, continuing to focus on the task of returning Falchion to the beauty it had surely held yesterday. Preoccupied with looking at his hands and imagining them in hers, her slim long fingers against his flatter, larger ones, she failed to notice when he had finished cleaning up the sword and was now looking at her.

Following her eyes to his hands, Chrom asked perplexedly, "Um… Cordelia? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Hm?" When she realized he'd caught her in the act, she jumped, startled. "Argh! I'm sorry, milord! No, no, nothing at all. I was just thinking… Oh gods, was I going to say it out loud? How silly of me…" She turned her face away, muttering under her breath, "I have to be more secretive about it next time…"

Chrom squinted at her, tilting his head. His eyes widened as he shook his head and stood up. "Okay, Cordelia, I've got to check in on my troops before they set off to training or otherwise. Just promise me you'll stay here and won't go anywhere, all right?—And I've got to, uh, procure some armor or at least some normal clothing for you."

"Understood, milord," she answered, watching him as he walked out of the tent. She turned around and sighed deeply. Oh, the things she'd do just to feel his thumb in her hand, to be locked in his embrace, to move her lips against his—she was blushing again, just thinking about him. She wanted all of Chrom more than he could ever even know, every piece of his mind, body, and soul, every single word he ever said, his heart and his head, his devotion and his love.

Holding an extra dress of Lissa's in hand, Chrom opened the flap of the tent in which he and Cordelia were staying. She'd fallen asleep at the table, and the tray with her breakfast was pushed aside. Her hair was a little greasy and quite tangled; he wondered if Lissa might have a hairbrush handy to help with that problem. After all, he knew Cordelia pushed herself very hard to perfection, and she wasn't going to accept her hair looking like a rats' nest. But first, she would probably want to be properly dressed. "Cordelia," he called, looking at her sleeping face, one cheek squished against the table. He almost had to laugh at the slight dribble coming from her formerly made-up lips. If she could only see herself now… He frowned for a second, remembering that she might not think it as funny as he did, but he always had to think of the days that he'd spent outside with Lissa and some other childhood friends. They'd returned home looking like mud monsters, branches and leaves caught in their hair, their legs soiled up to their knees from wading in the filthy creeks around Southtown. "Cordelia?" he tried again, louder this time. She mumbled "Chrom…" under her breath, blinking her eyes and beginning to stir. He smiled again, the thought of playing outside and getting disheveled still on his mind. Maybe he'd ask her if she had experienced a similar childhood, just to pass the time. As uptight as she seemed to be about placing a presumed burden on him, she could use to talk about something lighthearted and casual.

Cordelia opened her eyes, sat up straight, and stretched. One of the straps on the negligee she was wearing slipped down her shoulder, but she set it right quickly and returned to covering her chest with her arms. "Was I sleeping?—Oh, gods, I'm so sorry, I must look horrible!" She frowned, touching her face to feel if what was left of the makeup was smearing anymore, wiping the drool off the side of her cheek. "Chrom, of all people, has to see me like this…"

Slightly confused and somewhat amused, Chrom laughed for a second, then held up the dress in his hands, setting it on the table. "I know how important your image is to you, Cordelia, so I've brought you some normal clothes to wear. It's one of my sister's dresses. I'll get you a hairbrush while you're changing, okay?"

Still flustered, Cordelia said, "Um… sure. I mean, yes, milord, it would be appreciated."

He nodded and walked out of the tent to fetch her Lissa's hairbrush. There was no hurry—she would probably need some time to change before he got back. Once he'd checked on some more of the troops and acquired the hairbrush, he walked back to the tent and called inside before walking in, "Hello?"

"Come in," Cordelia answered.

He slipped inside the tent and held the hairbrush out. "For you."

Cordelia's face was getting red again. She looked up at him and smiled as if she'd never been given something before. "For… me… Sounds so nice coming from you…"

Chrom flinched. What did she mean by that? He never tried to be a stingy person. Maybe he was just overthinking it; it was just a hairbrush. "Well, you work out the knots in your hair, and I'll brew some tea for the both of us."

Focusing on brushing out her hair, Cordelia responded, "Really, Chrom, you don't have to go to that kind of trouble. It's still early in the afternoon, isn't it? I don't know that I'd really like any tea."

Chrom looked over at her for a brief moment, then sighed, sitting down on the cot and watching her brush her hair. He worked at the straps of his armor and removed his cape, setting it aside. Hopefully, he could do something to make himself look less intimidating to her. She was always worried about her appearance and actions around him. He set aside Falchion as well, carefully wrapping it up in the cape. Maybe he could take off a bit of his armor… That might make him seem more casual. After all, if she so badly wanted to interact with him without being intimidated, he'd try his best to bridge the social divide between them, starting by talking about what they might have in common. He smiled and looked up at her, trying to put on the most casual expression he could, even as his anxiety told him that he was overacting, and informally started, "Earlier this morning, I was thinking about when I and a few of the Shepherds used to play out in the fields when we were children. We came home with the messiest clothes and our hair was all tangled up and our knees scraped. It seems so long ago. What about you, Cordelia? Did you play out in the fields when you were young?"

She smiled, blushing slightly as she looked over at him. "Hee hee. I guess it is a little embarrassing to admit to you, since you're Prince Chrom, but…"

"Oh, Cordelia, don't be afraid of me. Just because I'm a royal doesn't mean I look down on you. In fact, I quite admire your strength. You've bounced back so quickly after your condition last evening."

Cordelia's cheeks turned even pinker as she brushed a stray strand of bright red hair away from her face. "G-gods, you flatter me too much. It's very sweet of you. If only…"

"If only what?"

Cordelia nearly ripped a strand of hair out as she threw the hairbrush onto the table next to her. "Urgh! I said that out loud, didn't I?! Oh, what am I doing…"

"Anyways," Chrom continued, only to get interrupted by her answering his question.

"Oh, and yes." She smiled all of a sudden, the blush beginning to fade from her cheeks. "I think everyone has a similar experience growing up, at least when it comes to playing outside. Everyone does that, right? I remember getting tangled hair as well. That's why I used to keep it in pigtails up on my head. If I ever have a daughter, I'll probably tie her hair up that way. I miss doing that to my hair."

"Your hair is quite long now," Chrom said. "Maybe you could try that."

"Oh, no. It's a bit childish. Besides, I like having my hair down now."

"It doesn't get in the way? I mean, Lissa's got her hair up on her head, and Sully's got hers cut real short. But you and Sumia just let yours hang down your backs. …I'd think it'd get a bit, uh, heavy."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, if you think it'd look better short—"

"Oh!" Chrom bit his tongue. "I didn't mean it that way, Cordelia. Sorry. I mean, uh, your hair, it looks fine long, but I was just thinking it must be awfully hard to take care of. Uh, sorry." He sighed, disgruntled. "I…"

Setting down the hairbrush, Cordelia sat down and looked at him with a kind expression on her face. "It's okay, Chrom. I promise. I get your point. I guess you don't really know many women with long hair, do you?"

Chrom sighed. "I'm not the best at interaction, if you'll forgive me. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable because I'm a royal. I thought you might be less, uh, nervous, if I acted more like a person of your standing." He had really done it now, hadn't he? He'd tried to be an equal to her but had ended up being embarrassing and discombobulated. She probably thought worse of him than before. How was he ever going to convince her to stay with the Shepherds after having seen her at her worst and then having subjected her to his poor conversational skills? Well, maybe it wasn't that his conversational skills were bad. He just had trouble being anything other than himself—he was too honest, a virtue Emmeryn had instilled in him in his youth.

Cordelia surprised him when she sincerely reassured him, "It's fine, Chrom. Be who you are." Her expression became a bit more serious. "I'm the real problem anyways. Coming into camp in that state and forcing you to take care of me? I've placed such a heavy burden on you." She shook her head, frowning sternly.

"No!" Chrom cried, forgetting about restraining his reactions. Cordelia turned her head and looked directly into his eyes, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "Don't you realize? I don't want you to feel like a burden. I'm taking care of you because your position in the Shepherds matters to me. You matter to all of us, okay? Now don't let me hear any more of that 'heavy burden' nonsense. You could never be a burden to us."

"Chrom…" Moisture beaded up around her eyes as her pale skin took on a mottled red color. "Thank you so much. Hearing you say that I matter means so much to me. I guess I undervalued my position, and I—"

"You what?" Chrom asked her, becoming sterner and placing his hand on her shoulder for a moment. She flinched, and he dropped his arm passively.

Cordelia looked away from him again, wiping at her eyes as if she hadn't just been affected by his remarks. "Well, I thought I wasn't worth anything. I started doing what I was doing because my self-esteem was so low, that I—"

Chrom's eyes widened as he grimaced. "You sold yourself because you doubted your potential?!"

"More or less. I also wanted some gold for higher-quality weapons and armor, thinking I'd be able to better myself in that way…"

"But why selling yourself, Cordelia? Phila clearly believes in you, and Sumia, and all of us here in camp will believe in you, too, once you join. There's no reason to desecrate your reputation like this. If someone were to find out about your history—For how long have you been doing this?"

Cordelia opened her mouth to respond, to justify her choice, but nothing came out.

Chrom dug his fingers into his thigh in frustration with himself. "Gods! I've jumped ahead of myself. I'm so sorry, Cordelia. I don't want to make you feel bad for doing it, I really don't. I'm not you, and I can't truly understand your motives. But I just… I thought you were going to die last night. I was so worried. And you have far too much potential elsewhere than to let vile street miscreants take advantage of you."

Cordelia's face turned even redder. She was certainly quick to embarrass, Chrom thought. "Thank you, Chrom. I… I'm so glad to hear that you were concerned about me. And really, I don't know what I've been thinking. All I know is that…"

"What do you know?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm sorry. I embarrass myself all the time, always trailing off and daydreaming."

Chrom laughed briefly. "I've started to notice you do so quite often. But what would you be without that, just like I without my position as a royal?"

She smiled. "Chrom, you really are too kind. Maybe that's why I lo… Oh, my, I've done it again, haven't I?"

He laughed, then looked at her more intensely as she diverted her attention to the wall, smiling, lost in thought. Why did she always trail off so much? What did she need to tell him that she also didn't want to? But then again, she didn't have to voice it if the time wasn't right. If she were hiding something, it must be incredibly hard to avoid. He decided not to pursue his curiosity and instead asked her, "Do you think you'll be ready to fight soon? With the prospect of war with Plegia ahead of us, we need all the help we can get."

She smiled eagerly. "Of course I'll help. If there's anything I can do to repay you, it's joining the fight as a fellow soldier."

"Great to hear. We'll most likely rest for a day or two until we know where we are heading next. We've just gotten back from Ferox, and we all could use a break. And don't you dare think of sneaking out of camp tonight. I've my eye on you."

"Yes, milord. Er, Captain. …What do you want to be called?"

He smiled at her. Her eagerness and earnestness were so refreshing. "Just call me 'Chrom,'" he said cheerfully, looking into her eyes.

"Okay… Chrom." She smiled. "It's so nice being able to call you by your name. It's almost as if…"

"As if what?"

"Oh, gods! I've done it again!" Cordelia groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

He laughed briefly before patting her on the shoulder and saying, "All right, Cordelia. You look after yourself today and try to get some rest. I'll be checking in on and possibly sparring with some of the Shepherds. If you need anything…" He looked down at his cape set on the cot. "…Well, you just hang my cape by one of the poles of the tent, and I'll look over and see it and come to help out. Got it?"

"Yes, Chrom," she responded.

Lissa looked up from a sampler she was trying and failing to stitch; Chrom was poking his head into her and Maribelle's tent. "May I come in?" he asked.

"Oh, I guess so," she teased, setting the sampler down and glaring at it, pouting. "I just can't figure this darn thing out! I never was good at needlework. Maribelle could do it a lot better than me."

"You've probably already made more progress than I ever could," Chrom said, looking down at her half-finished handiwork.

There was a pause before Lissa asked, "How's that girl doing?"

Chrom had known the question was coming, but didn't hesitate to answer with, "She's fine. Not sick at all, just tired. I think she was emotionally drained, but I talked with her, and she's starting to feel better."

Lissa frowned. "Usually royals aren't supposed to even talk to those kind of… people."

"Well, we aren't the usual royals, are we?" Chrom smiled. "You and I are both still in our teens, Lissa. Not to mention Emm's only in her twenties. We aren't some kind of Ylissean old guard."

Lissa smiled hesitantly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She paused, before asking, with a more serious expression, "What would Emm think?"

Chrom shook his head. "Emm would have done the same thing, Lissa. Do you think she'd let a woman with a fever, even an indecent one, out on the streets? Emm is kind and gentle. We should always strive to be more like her."

"But if both of us were exactly like Emm, that would be pretty boring." Lissa pouted.

Chrom rolled his eyes. "What I meant, Lissa, is that Emm should be our role model."

"She already is my role model!" Lissa said, grinning. "And I bet everyone else would say that we're growing up to be a lot like her."

Chrom nodded. "You're right. Hold a moment." He looked outside of the tent, but Cordelia hadn't hung the cape outside. Perhaps she'd fallen asleep. Hoping such was the case, Chrom turned his attention back to Lissa. "If word of this reached Emm, I'm sure she'd approve of my actions. She is going to attempt parley with the Mad King of Plegia, and this alone is proof that her heart knows no bounds."

"You've got that right." Lissa paused for a minute before asking, "So what did you and her talk about?"

"I and…"

"The girl who's staying in your tent, silly!"

Chrom's eyes widened in realization and he blinked. "Oh. Obviously. Uh, just a few things. Nothing too important. Small talk."

Lissa squinted her eyes and smirked. "Nothing too important? Then why aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, exasperated. "Lissa! It wasn't like that. She's staying with me until she's well enough to leave. That's all."

Lissa laughed. "I'm just joking, Chrom. But…" she paused. "If anything happens to Emm, you know that you'll—"

Chrom looked at her, more sternly now. "I'm well aware, and I know that the populace will be expecting me to be married."

Lissa pursed her lips, looking across the table at Chrom, who wasn't meeting her eyes at the moment. "I'm sorry, Chrom. You have a lot more to worry about than I do, huh?"

"Right. I don't fall in love quickly, Lissa. I'm well-aware. And I've got such a short amount of time to find someone, if things do go wrong with Emm."

"Stop thinking about the worst possibility!" Lissa cried. "If you don't fall in love quickly, then you don't have to force it, silly."

Chrom sighed. "I've got to have some time alone to recharge anyways. I'll think about things. Perhaps I'll head down to the river." He nodded in certainty. "I will. If anyone asks for me, tell them that's where I've headed. A nice swim should help clear my mind."

"Make sure you tell Frederick, then," Lissa said. "He's sure to have a fit if you don't tell him where you're going."

Chrom smiled weakly. "I guess I'd better do that."

Having just woken up from her nap, Cordelia stared at the drab ceiling of the tent. She wished she had a book to read, or hair or flowers to braid. She could braid her own hair, but she'd spent too much time doing it that morning to relieve stress that it would just make her more stressed out if she started up again. What can I do? she wondered, tapping her fingers against the surface of the cot.

Again, Chrom came to mind. She was bored; of course her mind was going to wander to him. He was so close, yet so far. She thought of his myriad smiles this afternoon. Clearly he'd enjoyed being in her company, if only just because she was willing to accept him for every part of him. She felt that she was the only girl in camp to do so. Maybe she was just jealous that other girls in camp walked in the same area as him on a daily basis, but she couldn't see someone like Sully or Miriel getting along too well with him. And there was another flaw—her jealousy. Gods, why couldn't she just be perfect for him?! Molding herself into his ideal woman was her goal, yet she had no idea what kind of woman he wanted. She'd have to be capable of eventually leading the halidom alongside Exalt Chrom, for one, and she swore she could do it. So why didn't he notice her efforts all the time, not just when they were alone together, or commend her and look at her even when he was around other women? Her only chance was being alone together with him. And today was her chance. That meant that there was less than a day left to rope him in, to try to make him pay attention to her. The time was valuable. Once he returned to the tent, she had to say something. Wait—had she just pondered a confession?! How could she ever work up the courage—

"Cordelia?" Oh, gods, it was him. She started and sat up on the cot, staring at Chrom to acknowledge his presence. He said, "I'm heading down to the nearby stream for a short swim. I'll be back in a little while."

Cordelia nodded silently. Images of Chrom stripping down to prepare to swim invaded her mind; she tried to push those improper thoughts away, shakily replying to him, "Okay."

"Everything all right?" he asked, looking curiously at her.

"Just fine," she replied. He nodded and walked outside of the tent. She sighed and gave in to her fantasies now that he was gone, imagining his muscular upper body, calves, and the small of his back, his lips on hers as he pushed her down onto the cot, both of them breathing like cats in heat—oh, gods, she really had to get her mind off of that and onto something else. But… maybe not today.

Chrom unbuckled the straps of his armor, removing his clothes and carefully folding them on the ground next to his boots. He slipped out of his smallclothes, quickly stepping into the stream. He winced at first at the cold, but it soothed his tired muscles and he was able to lean against a nearby rock, sighing. No one could bother him here. Sometimes a leader just needed a break, and he was long-overdue for one.

He thought about what Lissa had said. The search for a partner racked his brain, especially with the increased possibility that he'd ascend to the throne. Though he was only nineteen, he had less time to worry about to whom he'd be married than other nineteen-year-olds in Ylisse, Ferox, or Plegia. It was so silly. Why was everyone so eager to push him with someone? He could lead the halidom alone, like Emm did. She got along just fine without a partner. But for some reason, he couldn't see Lissa not getting married, and the thought scared him. She was just sixteen and already thinking about with whom she'd spend the rest of her life. Marriage was a terrifying concept, even more so than plain love.

Just as he'd reminded Lissa, Chrom had never been one to fall in love quickly. He would have to marry a person he knew, not just someone he'd never met—unless the circumstances would somehow call for it. He'd considered Frederick as a partner, and wouldn't have minded marrying him, seeing as Frederick was one of his closest and best friends (and Chrom strongly suspected Frederick had a massive crush on him), but feared that he wouldn't be able to have any children outside of adoption. After all, the royal bloodline had to continue, didn't it?—especially since it was likely that Lissa's children wouldn't be able to wield Falchion. So there was no option as to gender. He'd have to take a female partner, even if he weren't attracted to her.

He sighed and leaned back, looking up at the blue, clouded afternoon sky. The sun shone relatively brightly, and the sheen on his arms from walking into the water was nearly blinding. As much as he was out in the sun, Chrom ought to be a bit tanner than he actually was. It was somewhat curious. And why was Lissa the only one to have any freckles? Neither he nor Emmeryn had their noses or cheeks decorated with those charming dots.

Staring up at the clouds moving above him, Chrom heaved a deep sigh. Soon, Cordelia would be ready to fight, and they'd have to set toward Plegia. He was preoccupied with the looming threat of Emm's death. Since she'd ascended to the throne fifteen years ago, there had been strained, albeit steady, peace between Ylisse and Plegia. But the people of Plegia hadn't forgotten what the former exalt had done to them, as well as their history fraught with strife. Although Chrom himself had always been suspicious of Plegia, his sister was so willing to bargain with them. He knew they couldn't be trusted, the bastards, and he was deathly afraid of what might happen to Emm. And if she died, what would he do? Would he be able to continue from that point? He hoped that Naga could give him the strength and resolve to navigate the next few days.

He sat up for a second and noticed how tense he was. His back was so stiff; perhaps he could get Frederick to work out the kinks. He hated when Lissa tried to give him massages, as her fingers were small and her fingernails excessively pointy. He speculated that Maribelle would be even worse, remembering how primly manicured her nails were and how much she hated touching other people. Frederick did have a soothing touch, but Chrom was worried he'd fall asleep, and perhaps Cordelia would get lonely, and wander out before it was time for Chrom to introduce her, and he definitely didn't want that. Perhaps he'd just ask Frederick tomorrow.

Stepping out of the lake, he walked behind the bushes where he'd placed his clothes and, picking up the towel that Frederick had given him, dried himself off. His muscles had loosened up a bit, but his back remained extremely tense. He slipped back into his smallclothes and then pulled on the rest of his clothing, leaving his shoes and armor unbuckled as he walked back towards his tent. He wondered if Cordelia was ready to eat dinner yet. He'd have to bring her back some. But first, he'd stop in the tent to drop off his boots and hang up the used towel. "Hello?" he called before entering. She was asleep again, unsurprisingly. But she was on his cot, wrapped in the blanket he'd used last night. That was a little odd. He hung up the towel and set his boots beside his bed. Was her cot uncomfortable, or was the sun too strong on her side? Curious, he walked over and sat on her cot. It seemed to be the same quality as his, and the blanket wasn't softer or lighter. It had to be the light. It was a bit darker on his side, and the sun had been pretty strong just half an hour earlier.

Chrom walked over and knelt down to look at her. She was breathing softly, and looked as if she'd wiped the excess makeup from her face as best she could. Her fiery bangs fell in her face, and she'd placed the Pegasus Knight clips she always wore next to the pillow. When she wasn't worrying about herself constantly, she was so much more peaceful. It was almost… attractive to see her so calm like this. Chrom shook that fleeting thought away and stood up straight. He had to fetch dinner for both of them, and he couldn't sit around letting silly idle thoughts invade his mind.

But even as he walked to the tent where the food was being prepared, he found himself meditating more on Cordelia's smile, on the way she blushed every time he complimented her. There was something so charming about her devotion to every task, her drive to achieve the unachievable, her dedication to being the best of the pegasus knights—"Cordelia," he said to himself, under his breath, looking ahead of him as he walked, his breathing becoming heavier, more labored, as he thought of her…

Was he… falling in love with her? Oh, gods, he could barely stand the thought. He'd never dated anyone himself, never daring to dip his foot into what he perceived to be quicksand. He had not been lying when he told Lissa that it took him time to fall in love, but this seemed to be a new record for him, if it truly was love that he was feeling. He walked into the tent and bumped into Maribelle—"My goodness, milord, take more excessive care upon the next occasion we meet"—and Vaike—"Hey—was ol' Teach in your way?"—as he spaced out, not focusing on where he was going. Ricken and Sumia chattered idly around where he stood as he numbly prepared two plates of food for him and for Cordelia. "Will you be eating with us tonight, Captain?" asked Sumia, looking curiously at her commander.

"Uh—no, I don't think I'm feeling quite well. There's a lot on my mind, if you'll excuse me," he said, barely aware of the others around him who were squeezing into the cramped tent to sit down and have their respective meals. Something kept lurching over and over in his stomach. His mind buzzed, his forehead burning. He felt excessively nervous about the prospect of seeing Cordelia, but something was drawing him to go back to the tent. He didn't have to say anything. He had only to make sure that she could eat without assistance, and then he could head to bed to sleep on this newfound funny feeling.

"Cordelia?" She sat up from the dry tactical instruction manual she'd been reading and looked up. There was Chrom, stepping into the tent with two trays of dinner for each of them. He set them on the table and knelt down, inviting her to take the chair.

"Oh, I could never," she protested. "I sit and the Captain kneel on the ground?"

"I insist, Cordelia," he said, his voice seeming to waver—that was a little strange. She sat down and started eating, looking across the table at him every now and then to catch glimpses of his shining blue eyes. But he wasn't focusing on eating his food. Taking awkward spoonfuls of mush, he glanced uneasily at her, seeming to almost sweat. His hand was shaking. Was he ill?! Oh, gods, if she had made him ill, she'd never be able to live it down. But she couldn't ask him if he was okay. He had to eat his dinner, and she didn't want to interrupt him, especially if he were sick. Instead of meeting his eyes, she looked down at her mush. It wasn't much, made with oats, some kind of cured meat, and water. It was far from gourmet, but any kind of food would satiate her hunger from having been on the streets for the past few evenings.

Her mind instantly went back to Chrom; after all, she couldn't resist thinking about him if he was sitting—or rather, kneeling—right in front of her. He was staring at her. Not Sully, or Miriel, or Sumia, or some other girl in camp—staring at her, and sweating. Maybe it didn't mean anything, and maybe he was only getting sick, but she held on to that tiny thread of hope that things would turn out like they did in her fantasies. She would be sitting at dinner with Chrom, or sparring with him on the back of her Pegasus, meeting Chrom's legendary Falchion with the strength that she put behind her spear, and suddenly he'd say her name, and she'd get distracted from eating or fighting and look up and he'd be kneeling on the ground with the ring of House Ylisse in his hand, and she'd cry and scream "YES," and Sumia would be her glowing, lovely maid of honor, and Lissa would be another bridesmaid, and Cordelia would wear the most beautiful dress and have her hair done up in a fancy style and maybe even curled, which she'd always wanted to do, and Chrom would look into her eyes, piercing her soul with that sapphire gaze, and say "I do" in that handsome, masculine voice of his, and lean in and press his lips to hers, and then she'd become the Queen of Ylisse, serving beside Exalt Chrom. It was her ultimate dream. And always, of course, was the nagging thought that she should just tell him. But she didn't want to, fearing his rejection, his reaction, or any number of things that might go wrong. She couldn't bear to think about how he'd reply to her confession, so she never even dared put it out there.

She looked up from her finished bowl of mush across the table at Chrom. He wasn't sitting there anymore. He'd gone to lay down sideways on his cot, facing the wall and staring emptily at the tent's wall in front of him. As if to attempt to sleep, he would close his eyes every once in a while. Mostly, he just played at the buckles of his armor, not having even removed all of his clothing before laying down in bed. Cordelia swallowed. She was worried now. He looked pale and flushed. What was he doing? What was he thinking? She'd give anything to know what was troubling him, but she was scared to ask him about it. After all, she hadn't known Chrom as long as some of the others in camp had, and this was the first time they'd been this close before. She'd always been admiring him from afar, and he'd been supervising her and talking with Phila about her recruitment into the Shepherds. Of course, that had been years before what had happened to her now. She thought about Chrom's discussion with her earlier this afternoon, about how much she meant as a member of the Shepherds, and how she'd been undervaluing her own position. And, of course, his words to her about how her constant daydreaming and trailing off were a part of her personality stuck with her as well. She couldn't help thinking, however, how he'd misinterpreted her by not realizing her feelings for him, and she was surprised he hadn't questioned it by now.

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. No. She wasn't going to sit there and think about Chrom anymore. She was going to show her devotion by helping comfort him. And even if she failed, he would realize that she was working as hard as she was because of him. It might be a bit extreme to say that he was her ultimate reason for living, but she knew that even if she would get married to someone else, he would always rule supreme in her heart, even if her love for him faded to a platonic or friendly devotion rather than a romantic one. She would be Chrom's guardian, even when he didn't know that she was watching over him. And she would start showing her devotion in this very moment by asking him what was wrong.

"Hey, Chrom?"

Oh, gods. It was Cordelia. He couldn't pretend to be asleep since she had snuck over before he had any time to close his eyes. He sat up and looked at her. "What?"

"Um, I was just wondering if something's wrong and if I can help you with it."

He sighed and looked down at the floor. Was he going to tell her everything that had been on his mind? All those thoughts coursing through his head and preying on him? Constant reminders that Emm's death was imminent, that he had to struggle with relationships, and was now wrestling with a potential crush—on her? How could he? It would be so much easier to vent to someone who always understood, like Lissa or Frederick—but even they wouldn't display the sympathy he needed. If only Emm were here... What would Emm tell him? He tried to imagine… Her benevolent nature shone through all aspects of his and Lissa's life, and he just wished he could be like her and be open-minded and kind rather than closing himself off to others. But he felt so distrustful, so afraid that she'd think him ridiculous for falling in love so quickly, a coward of a leader for fearing that he couldn't stop his sister's death—

And suddenly, like magic from a tome, it all spilled out of his mouth and into her ears. His eyes watering, he told her about how his back hurt like he'd swapped places with a horse, how he could barely make it through a day without sweating to death over Emm's imminent doom, how he knew he would worry for Lissa's and his fate if she died, about the Shepherds' tactician and his fear that they wouldn't even be able to save Emm, about how he cherished Emm and Lissa more than anything and would die in Emm's place, even, if he could—

"Hold on a second, Chrom," Cordelia interrupted. She was looking at him, though he couldn't return her gaze. He was far too ashamed for letting it slip out, at the same time that he was grateful that he could get it off his back—even if he hadn't quite finished yet, even if the sun hadn't quite set. "Remember this afternoon when you told me that there are certain things that are a part of our personality? You're the only one who can wield the Falchion, right?"

He nodded, still not returning her gaze.

"If the world loses Chrom, who else is going to wield the Falchion? Neither the Exalt nor Lissa can do it. No other Shepherd is of royal blood. And the Exalt isn't married, so there are no nieces or nephews of yours who could do it. Chrom, don't you get it? If you walked to your death instead of the Exalt, the whole world would be doomed if something bad were to happen. And it takes a while for children to grow up. For sixteen years, no one would be able to wield it!" She stared at him more intensely now. "Look at me!" she yelled, finally gaining the confidence to command something of him. "Don't you dare think of dying in place of the Exalt! If she dies, that's just the way things have to go. Remember, the tactician will try their best to save her." She paused, reveling in her sudden eloquence. "Losing hope isn't like you, Chrom. I know, maybe I don't understand how stressful it is being a royal, maybe I'm just a girl who rides a Pegasus, but I know what it's like when you think you've lost all hope, when you think it's not worth living anymore. When you make bad choices because you've lost all hope…" She sighed. "I don't want you to do what I did."

Chrom took in her words, let them sink in. She looked at him. He screwed up his face and furrowed his brow, as if in realization. Then he said something that would change her life forever.

"Thank you, Cordelia. …I… I think now I've realized something I've been thinking about this evening." He was sweating so profusely that there were small stains on his clothing. "I mean that, I have the strength to say it. Because like you said, there's uh, a reason for me to live, and, uh, I think if there's only one life that I live, you should, uh, know this, okay? I, um, well, you see, I… I kinda… like you." He breathed in nervously, his voice beginning to waver again. "Uh, not like you, like… uh, more than a friend, um, kind of in like a weird romantic way, if you get that? I'm so sorry, it's been years since I've had a crush, and I—"

"Chrom?!" she screeched, nearly deafening him as he jumped, gasping and almost forgetting to breathe in response to her squeal. "You LOVE me?! Oh my gods, this is the best day of my life!"

Trying to catch his breath, Chrom asked, "W-woah, hold on; what do you mean?"

"Chrom, I've liked YOU since I was, like, BORN. I-I can't believe I'm hearing this right! I have to be dreaming! Oh my gods, oh my goodness!" She pinched herself. "Ow! No! It's real! This is happening! You just confessed to ME?"

"Uh, uh, I'm sorry, did I do something wr-wrong, Cordelia?" He had started to sweat even more, his hands shaking.

Cordelia realized she was scaring him and slapped her forehead with her open palm. "Oh, gods, what am I doing? I don't want to scare the love of my life off! No, no, at this time what would be perfect is…"

"Um, Cordelia?"

"Yes, Chrom?" She looked at him, unblinking, as he looked at her, his expression still bewildered from her explosion of happiness.

"You… you loved me all that time? And didn't tell me?"

She nodded. "I never felt myself worthy to tell you. I always feared I'd make a mistake, and ruin your perception of me or my perception of you. But now that you love me back, I'm not afraid."

Chrom sobered up and said, "You never should have been afraid, Cordelia. I'm the one who is an absolute failure when it comes to romance. I'm telling you, it's been so many years since I've actually had a crush, and it usually takes me such a long time to fall in love. But something about you is drawing me in. I can't deny that there's something about you."

Cordelia swallowed. "Well, if you don't know much about romance, how about we start with—"

"—a kiss?"

Cordelia bit her lip. "How did you guess?"

"Oh, I don't know, probably lucky." He leaned in, closing his eyes, and placing his shaking hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes and waited for the big moment. Oh, gods, his lips were on hers. He was so excessively warm, all of his stress converging and making him extremely tense, whereas she trembled with excitement. She, the so-called "perfect" prodigy of the pegasus knights, was reduced to a quivering mess in the presence of Chrom, nearly squealing in her ecstasy, and he, the noble and proud prince, an emotional wreck in her presence, tears streaming down his face as he tried to move his lips against hers but just ended up getting spit all over her lips, both of them falling into this kiss like they'd never done anything in their lives romantically before. In the few nights she'd been out on the streets, no one had even kissed her, had looked at her close to the way that Chrom did. She was just others' objects, and that was what she'd formerly felt herself to be doomed to become. But she knew, with the warmth of Chrom's sloppy, unskilled lips and his tears dripping onto the skirt of Lissa's dress, that he was going to value her far more than anyone else in this world.

And she was so glad. She had known all along that if he would only look at her, she'd be set for the rest of her life. Oh, gods, she loved him more in this moment that she ever had before, especially now that he had made it clear how much value she had. All she had ever needed was affirmation, and his belief in her was giving her the strength to believe in herself, and giving him the strength to believe in himself as well. When it came down to it, they were just two emotional almost-no-longer-teenagers who thirsted for someone who could become their other half, support them when they were feeling down. She knew that. And she'd searched for the strongest partner, the one who could always pick her up. She would never become as desperate as she had, going out on the streets and searching for the misplaced validation of others. Her strength would be organic, self-sourced, coming from within. And she knew at this moment that she could not give him up, that he would not give her up for the world, that he had already made his decision.

Chrom released the kiss, still crying. "I'm such a damn mess," he said, shaking his head and wiping his eyes with his fists. "I'm so sorry you have to see me like this."

"I will still want you and love you whatever you're like," she assured him.

"I—I think I'm sure now. I do, Cordelia. I love you. I know it seems that things are going very quickly for both of us, and I don't want to put such a heavy burden on you—"

"You putting a heavy burden on me? Are you making fun of me?" she teased, ruffling his hair. Oh gods, she had the liberty to touch him at any time now.

He smiled weakly. "I—I just want you to know that I don't want to let you, Emm, Lissa, or the Shepherds down anymore. We'll march to our next mission with newfound confidence. And—you head back to the pegasus knights awhile, okay? I think you should tell Phila that everything's going all right. She must be worried sick about you."

Cordelia frowned. "I don't want to leave you, Chrom."

Chrom smiled, still sniffling from time to time. "I know. It's hard. But we will meet again very soon, okay?"

"Yes," Cordelia said, accepting that she should go visit Phila. Phila would notice that she had changed and that she no longer feared not being worthy of her position. "And please, Chrom, promise me one thing?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you ever lose hope."

When Cordelia joined up with the Shepherds after the loss of some of her comrades, Chrom met with her that night in the privacy of his own tent. Embracing her and rubbing her back, he assured her that everything was all right, that she had to remember her own advice to him—to never lose hope.

Emmeryn's fall took a chunk out of Chrom's well-being, and he could hardly speak in the days afterward. He found Lissa, the tactician, and his beloved Cordelia to be a great source of comfort, and she reminded him of their mantra; he knew that there was no way he could lose hope. There was a war to win.

Chrom's subjects grew eager for him to take a wife. And in his heart, he had always known who that woman would be. As strong as she was, as much faith as she held in herself and in him, he knew it had to be Cordelia, the young, talented Pegasus knight who had always held in her heart a clandestine love for him.

In a short time, baby Lucina was born, and on Carrion Isle, her future counterpart saved Chrom's life. Cordelia was always astounded at how much Lucina resembled her, despite having her father's blue hair.

Their second child, Severa, also travelled from the future along with Lucina. Despite her poor attitude and lack of self-esteem, she admired and looked up to her father, promising him that one day she would learn to wield Falchion, though she dreaded to think that anything terrible might happen to her beloved older sister, whom she often called "Lucy." Cordelia took to the nickname quickly, and it was music to the family's ears to hear her being so carefree around her children and Chrom.

After the demise of Grima and the tactician's presumed death at their own hands, Exalt Chrom spent time curing the physical and psychological wounds of war alongside Lissa and his wife. Queen Cordelia trained young pegasus knights in the craft and, together with Exalt Chrom, looked after their two young daughters, Lucina and Severa.

The End