Note: this is fanfiction guys, anything belongs to their originals, etc.

Plenty of people had, over the course of the week, been approaching me with these furtive looks on their faces. I would have thought their intrusions masking a sinister purpose, had they not all been former comrades: ex-Shepherds who continued to serve at the Ylissean Court.

I wouldn't have minded these awkward meetings—characterized by silent staredowns and me shuffling my papers idly, waiting for the other party to speak—if I wasn't already pulling double work as both Queen of Plegia and Ylisse's Grandmaster.

It's been pretty hard work, mind, playing the task of sole ruler of a dead country (with all its citizens subsumed by Grima) and secret spymaster and senior strategist of a struggling country. With all the chaos that Dragon wrought, it was hard enough finding enough food for the people before they start thinking of rebellion. And that wasn't counting the local lords expecting us to take care of their ruined lands for them.

Coupled with the odd bandit uprising and keeping up with the developments of the outside world, my workload was considerably harsh. If it weren't for my eternal loyalty to Dad, may he return soon, I'd have gone with my brother to explore the world together with "my" Exalt.

Ah well. At least I had no threat of anyone rebelling in Plegia.

When Frederick came in, latest in the line of Shepherds who'd showed up without a by your leave at my chambers, I was at my wit's end. I'd just received crucial information regarding a bandit stronghold from the ever-resourceful Nah and I was just about to send a messenger bird to Stahl (who was assigned to guard that fief).

"We need to talk."

"Is that your way of addressing a Queen?" I said, my hands writing quickly on the parchment.

"Forgive me for my rudeness, and my intrusion," he said, quickly switching his demeanor. "But there is something I must discuss with you, Your Worship." Wait, could he acting sarcastic? It's always hard to tell with this guy.

"Fine," I said, waving my hand. I put down the quill, gestured for him to sit, crossed my fingers, and prepared myself for three to five minutes of awkward glances, pensive looks and relative silence.

"It's about Chrom," he said without preamble, once he settled in. "I believe he's found somebody else."

My hands constricted so quickly my fingers bent back. Fighting to control my expression, I asked him, pain-laden voice and all, "Are... you... sure...?"

He nodded solemnly. "The worst part of it is that he refuses to tell anyone. Even me."

"Is that so...? And is that why I've been receiving these calls from you guys? Hmm... Good one, Frederick. You're the only one to be able to breach the topic. Maybe you should've gone first huh? Anyway, how do you figure that's the case?"

"He shaved his beard."

I slapped a hand on the table. Now I'm chuckling. "Oh sweet Naga."

Since Grima's death, as I'd said, it was all we could do to keep Ylisse stable. Mouths to feed, egos to placate, and certain uncooperative barons to kick out. Chrom even had to disband the Shepherds, but not before awarding the ones with ties to Ylisse titles ripped from the aforementioned lords. Vaike's the only one loudly uncomfortable with his boon.

This has to be said: Chrom's inexhaustible energy had kept us going through those times. Whether through word or action, he steered us straight and true, and we did our best to reciprocate. It was thanks to him that Ylisse didn't degrade into civil war.

And then, about a year ago, his wife died. A malevolent illness took the Lady Sharla, forcing her to bed for a few weeks. Then winter came, and she was lost, leaving a grieving Exalt and a motherless Lucina.

That was the only other time the rest of the future kids came back to the capital. Lucina did her best comforting Chrom, as everyone looked on, suddenly and sharply aware of the mortality that exists even when free of the shadow of an evil god. Or something. Honestly, I hadn't been paying attention to everyone that time.

We trusted Chrom to be able to pull through. Through the desperate times as the Shepherds, we'd soldered through under his shining leadership. We'd grow strong even through adversity. But whatever had kept him going then seemed to have failed him. As the months wore on since her funeral, Chrom held fewer parties, received fewer audiences (instead letting Frederick or some other delegate do the work), went out on fewer patrols, and all but neglected little Lucina.

He'd even grown a beard.

It was only a few weeks past that it then all changed. It was unmistakeable: the spring to his step, the smile on his lips, the joy in his words. He'd even shaved! Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The Exalt had come back, and was better than ever. But what had happened?

Everyone speculated. It had been a very abrupt change. It was a hotly debated topic at court. Chrom continued to be silently happy, without giving away any indication for his change in demeanor. Some even pointed to a bout of insanity.

The "Shepherd" faction seemed as curious as the rest. It was the reason for all the visits. As for myself? Busy, as I've said. All good for Chrom to pull himself off his funk, but until he takes back managing the logistics of keeping this realm running, I won't be pulled from my chambers unless I'm hungry or Dad comes back.

Back to the present conversation, I leaned back on the chair to stretch my sore behind. I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep. "So why have you come to me?"

"We... well, I won't lie to you, I'm asking as Chrom's friend—I'd just like to know if you knew something about it. I and everyone else thought it strange you didn't offer your own opinion, much less speculate, leading most of us to think that perhaps you already knew, and for some reason are withholding the information."

"I ain't supposed to be the spymaster, Frederick," I replied, shaking my head. "Bad form for the nation's strategist to also be the one holding the spies in check." Well, that was a half-truth, and both of us knew it. There was never a true spymaster position in Ylisse, and if there had been on Emmeryn's time, they'd either been killed or refused to offer their services. It was then decided to put me on the job, in an unofficial manner, thus technically making me juggle three frigging duties at the same time.

(I objected, for the same reason that I just mentioned. If ever I'd turn traitor I know the first person I'll gloat over, and he's standing right in front of me.)

"But surely you must have some indication. Does His Majesty not communicate with you?"

"Only about official business. I've drawn him into chit-chat after, but he never takes the bait." I tapped my cheek. "Maybe I'm lacking that womanly charisma... Naga knows I'm yet young, even as Queen." I snorted, then addressed the other concern. "I did offer my speculation. Somehow, it's all Tharja's fault."

"Tharja?" Frederick said, eyebrows raised. It's a testament to the bonds forged as comrades that this new Frederick didn't immediately storm out to call for a manhunt for the elusive witch. Now he's giving her the benefit of the doubt. "I was under the impression magics like hers had negative effects. Chrom's happier than a songbird in spring."

I held up a finger. "Dark or light, you mark my words there's magic afoot in the palace, and in its center is our dear Exalt."

He shook his head. "If it was Tharja, then it would mean there's a ploy involving you, my Queen. Because I'd wager that even now that witch works for the benefit of Robin. In this case, without him, she's working for your sake instead."

"Or Gerome's sake," I said, rolling my eyes. "And if she did still feel that way, shouldn't I be instead watching out for any assassination attempts? I ain't just Dad's daughter; I'm a child of the greatest wyvern rider from Valm too. She's got to bear a grudge against me just for existing." Not that I didn't know where she was. Noire had tagged along with her mother, and the former continued to give me reports on their whereabouts. I'm the "spymaster" after all.

Frederick shrugged. "Tharja aside, there is something else I'd like to discuss with you about. I thank you for reminding me, with our talk of that witch." He sunk his voice to a conspiratorial level.

"I believe milord has found someone among the Shepherds." My eyebrows twitched. Here it comes—a very unpleasant topic. "I hesitate to suspect anyone from our own group, but for the sake of everyone's sanity, and milord's continued prosperity, I have to know."

"If it is one of the Shepherds, then it's highly unusual," I said, eyes glazed over from thought. "'Cause all of them visited me this week."

"But you yourself said that no one else had breached the topic," Frederick pointed out. "If milord's new beloved had been standing here then of course they'd be hard-pressed to talk with you about it, knowing your... reputation. They'd be afraid you were going to find out."

"Hey, don't say things that make me look bad," I said ruefully. Watching the distinct tells from people's body language and forming observations from them had been ingrained into me by Dad—both versions of him. Everyone who wanted to play the games at court absolutely had to learn to survive. All to protect Chrom, of course, who may or may not have undergone the same. "Though this does put some mud on your otherwise pristine assumption, Frederick. I did say everyone looked as hesitant as maidens in love." Even the men—uh-oh.

"I can't fathom why they'd be worried," Frederick continued. "It is not as if anyone would condemn them. Everyone'd be a bit angry, true, because why bother to conceal it? But in the end, we'd all wish them happiness." His nodded at me significantly. "And they did a masterful job if they concealed it from you, oh wise Grandmaster."

"And now you're trying to rile me up with that barb," I said, sighing. I put my chin on top of my entwined fingers, thinking. In theory, nothing should escape my notice. I know what everyone in Chrom's court is up to: from the sordid, but basic affairs to the careless, but dangerous whispers of dissension. This is why I keep working hard—it enables me to stay updated on anything and everything in order to ensure the stability of Chrom's reign. This was Dad's charge to me, this is what my "Exalt" pleaded me to do, and this I will do.

So it was unusual that I hadn't gotten wind of Chrom's new lady love. And Frederick, despite our recent conversation, was drilling me for the reason why.

"No no, I'm not challenging you," Frederick assured me. He continued, emphasizing each word carefully, "I'm asking, nay, pleading, as a former Shepherd to another: who was Lucina's mother?"

Ah. He finally got to the meat of his interrogation. A question that none of us kids from the future had ever answered, not out of spite, but necessity. We'd made a promise at the start, before we made contact with our parents, that we'd preserve our world in ourselves; and that no matter what happened in this world, we'd never take steps to interfere in anyone's life.

Lucina was the most vehement with this. And I can totally understand.

I'm not the one who travelled back in time to watch one's father marry another.

I'm not the one who has had another different version of her born.

Rather than grieve, she chose to hide the truth. And we, loyal subjects of the Exalt, would do the same.

Heck, near everyone else's moms never married their dads. And some of the dads had already found someone else, even someone not of the Shepherds. Like Ricken, or Vaike.

Only Gerome and I lucked out. Well, at first I could only remember Dad, but that got fixed. Before long our family had been well and truly reunited. But then again, Dad had gotten himself god-killed by his best friend.

The older Shepherds only knew part of this truth. I don't know how they felt, realizing after Grima's defeat that these children would never be born in this world. And then said children disappeared after the final battle, only keeping in touch via the nascent Queen of Plegia.

But I know how each of us felt, when we stood before the goddess. This was part of Naga's more unfortunate stipulations, that in the process of saving the future, the past we'd change would leave us with unhappiness in the end. Having averted this, Gerome would continue to support Lucina with all his might, and I would shoulder the burden of Grandmaster.

I leaned back on the chair. "The Lady Sharla," I said.

"Forgive me, my Queen, but you cannot fool these eyes," Frederick said, grimacing. "I've kept my peace: then, it was to preserve our morale. After, it was to preserve the status quo. But now, the truth must out. 'A child finds its parents not just in the color of her hair'. I was taught this, and I believe it to be true. The Lady Sharla was never your Exalt's mother."

"I'm sorry, Frederick," I said quietly. "But that's my answer."

Despite the rejection, Frederick's face didn't fall. "Are you not curious, then, to find out if Naga has put fate on the right path? To confirm if Chrom's new love is your Exalt's rightful mother?"

I think I know where he's going with this. This was his indirect way of asking me to help find out the identity of the mystery woman. "Hmph. Ack, you're very persistent, Frederick. I hate to admit it, but it's true. I don't know who the mystery woman is. And this has made me veeery curious." I gestured outside the window. "It's made them curious too. Lucina hasn't heard from her father in a while. I've been trying to reassure them that nothing's afoot."

"So you'll help us...?"

I rolled my eyes. "Since you guys are so keen on it. You guys sure love your intrigues."

"Not as much as you, oh Queen." His mouth curled into a small smile.

"I take it you are speaking independently now, and not as part of the 'faction'?"

"Yes."

"So you would prefer if you got the news first?"

"That is acceptable."

I bid him goodbye, feeling, for what seemed like the hundredth time that week, that I was conspiring against the Exalt.

Then, when I was sure the door was closed and not likely to open abruptly, I grinned to myself.

"You didn't hear it from me, but Sully's unit has been covering up their leader's absence for a while..."

"Why that two-faced...! And she had the gall to suggest that I was the one!" Maribelle said.

I shrugged. "'Twould be unwise to base our conviction on something unverified—"

She'd already left before I could finish.

"Maribelle?" They exclaimed.

"It's a good match," I mused. "I'm not sure if they intended it that way, though..."

"That bitch..." Sully said, running out the door. Vaike followed.

"Ah! Wait, you two!" Ricken cried. He turned to me. "I'm sorry about this, Morgan. But thanks for the information."

"It's not yet proven, you know, so don't jump to oh he's gone." I blew flaked wax from the table.

"Nowi?" asked Stahl. "But isn't she all the way in Valm, with Panne and Tiki?"

"Think, Stahl," I said, holding up a finger. "Who was it who said that she was?"

Stahl's eyes widened. "It was Chrom..."

"I admit, it seems logical," Cordelia murmured.

"My pardons, what was that?"

She seemingly ignored me, her voice a literal flood, "...After all, they did have that moment at the start of the war long ago... and everyone first thought it'd lead to something, everyone could 'see' it, but then things happened and Sumia found pegasi and Chrom found Sharla, which should have been fortuitous, but..."

I cleared my throat, took the quill out of the well, then bent down my head to finish the letter.

Sumia said nothing, merely picking the petals from flower after flower. When she was done with one, she pulled another from her pocket. She'd alredy gone through six.

It was a bit mesmerizing watching her like this, like watching Galeforce or Matron Minerva sniff around on the ground like a dog.

Then she broke down in tears. "I'm so happy... my two best friends... Cordelia, congratulations...!"

"Eh? Miriel? But that's so..." Lissa trailed off, waving her hands as if to catch her words.

"So?"

"So... mellow. So basic. Like comparing Chrom to a footsoldier. I mean..." Lissa's face scrunched up in thought. "Not that I have anything against Miriel, or darling Laurent, but she's like that, you know? You know what I'm getting at, Morgan? Right? Forget a whole different level, she lives in a different world!"

I twirl the feather onto my cheek, humming in thought. "Maybe that's how love works?"

"If anything," Lissa said with an annoyed look, waggling her eyebrows. "Our Archmage's probably got a little 'something something' under the covers that really excited brother, eh? A little 'oomph' down there that makes brother scream? A little magical enhancement? A little drop of youth potion, huh? She prob'ly researched a heckuva lot of techniques, huh? Prob'ly mastered them in her spare time, what a crafty woman!"

"... Please stop talking like an old geezer, Lissa. Dad's image of you will surely crumble..."

Frederick looked down at the paper.

"Tharja," he said flatly.

"Yep."

He looked suspiciously at me. "Didn't you say she was over near the Western Isles with Noire?"

"I was surprised too. But apparently, there's some forbidden magic that can allow instantaneous travel over a wide distance. It must obviously be how they managed this affair... I admit it would be a boon for us if we can replicate such arts, but it might reasonably take time and who knows what else..."

"Olivia," I said seriously.

"Yes?" Apparently my demeanor made her assume something serious was going on. She straightened in her seat.

"This must be kept a secret. From everyone. Most especially the Khans. Most especially Basilio."

"I understand."

I sighed, pausing for a bit before continuing on. "It is imperative for both our countries that it remains a secret. I don't know what role you play in Ferox, but I assume it's a bit similar to mine. You understand the stakes if it becomes public. We must both ensure it doesn't happen."

Olivia said nothing, but I could see determination in her eyes.

"This concerns Chrom and Lon'qu's secret affair..."

"Milady, I..." Upon seeing the lady Emmeryn's sweet smile, I faltered.

"Yes...?" She turned her pale, beautiful face towards me.

"It's nothing, milady," I said. I left her room, throwing away the practiced speech in my mind, that her dear little brother had bridged two continents by wishing to marry the venerable Say'ri.

Even I can admit it's a bit too much, both for her and myself. The Lady Emmeryn's a little tightly wound bear trap that can snare me better than even Donnel's best, and if I don't step lightly then it's curtains for the Queen.

Well, even without Emmeryn, I've still got a grand charade already working behind the scenes. A wonderful, beautiful setup.

Of course I knew the key to Chrom's happiness. And it wasn't some sordid love affair.

But let them assume that, and we can have some fun. Let them come piecemeal to my chambers over a week or two, expressing their concerns. Let them think they're the only ones of their faction who got around to talking about it, that the others never mentioned it.

Let them assume the worst, accept the sprinkled bait for what it is and be trapped accordingly.

I resist the urge to laugh hysterically then and there in the hall. Some nosy guards are right over there in the corner, ready to report me to whoever master they serve.

Instead, I settle for a smile. There. Good. I'm ever the smiler.

Time for the grand finale.

"I can sense your hand in this, Morgan," my brother said. We stood on the balcony overlooking the hall, where most of the party's invited guests gathered. Gerome gestured to them below for emphasis. "The ability to sow discord amongst one's fellows is something only a demon could master. If I didn't know better, I'd say your potential is higher than even Grima's."

"Don't tease your little sister, brother," I said, punching him lightly. "But thanks for the compliment, even if it's for the wrong thing."

"I wasn't really complimenting you," brother said sourly. "But I am looking forward to the effect your actions will take, little sister. Even as a 'Queen', do you think you can survive the ire of the group that took down a god?"

"Hmph. I'm not sure I appreciate what you imply, soldier. As this throne's only other claimant, I hereby banish you from the domains of this kingdom!"

"Did you seriously not think I would see through it?" Gerome continued, ignoring me. "I may have grown more under mother's shadow, Morgan, just as you under father's, but remember that he did teach me." His lips curled into a smirk. "And I can see your scheme as plain as the sun."

Good grief.

A week ago, the Exalt sent a summons to those who could come: there would be an important announcement. Those who knew of Chrom's rapid changes thought they had an inkling of why.

Near all the children had come, as well as some of the Shepherds from the other countries. Obviously, Dad couldn't come, and Mom was somewhere out there with my and brother's younger selves. Virion, Tiki and Say'ri extended their apologies across the ocean, Walhart and Gangrel's from the grave, Yen'fay's across dimensions.

Lon'qu had been forbidden to come by the Khans, for whatever reason. The Khans, honorary Shepherds, also declined politely.

It was supposed to be a heartwarming reunion of old comrades, where one could swap stories and catch up with the rest. To reminisce of both the bitter and the sweet, to take courage in a new tomorrow...

It was also a chance for chaos to erupt.

Those who thought they "knew" regarded their subjects uncomfortably. It's created a delightful web of awkwardness, compounded by the fact that they'd think their subjects acting strange was because of what I'd told them, because they thought their suspicions true. Frederick was in real form there, frowning in the direction of Noire and Tharja's table all throughout.

Then it would end with Chrom's "official" announcement. They'd surely be upset, true, but at least I have the satisfaction of having pulled off a masterpiece. I'd surely treasure this for a long time.

...Though, does this make me a terrible person?

Gerome sighed. "Well, it's not like it matters in the long run. It's not my place anymore to scold you if you do anything wrong, or stupid."

"Oh, I know you wouldn't be so cruel, brother."

Gerome "hmphed", stalking off to the windows.

I grinned to myself. For all his big talk, he probably still hasn't grasped the greater plot. It seems he didn't learn enough from Dad. Poor thing.

Oh, mustn't grin. I wiped it off my face. It'll just make me look like some evil maniac.

I glanced down towards the empty table, which had been reserved for the Exalt. The ex-beardo's late for some reason. Well, prolonging this situation isn't so bad.