Corrin couldn't possibly tell you the exact moment she fell in love with Jakob. It was all a jumble in her mind, the years of friendship, of book club meetings, of birthdays, and laughter, and bows, and that quiet, "Of course, my Lady," from his lips…

For the longest while, she tried to make him call her by her name. Honestly, she couldn't count how many times she asked him or corrected or commanded him to, but every time he turned her down with a crooked smile, and a "I couldn't possibly, my Lady…"

And somehow… at some point... she grew to love the sound of her title on his tongue. The way he spoke it… like no one else, like—like in his dreams maybe she really was his Lady.

At least… That's how her ears perceived it. That's how she liked to think the words were spoken… But she was afraid that her heart somehow changed them before they reached her mind. He was… He was loyal beyond a doubt, but that didn't mean he felt more for her than—than respect and admiration. Love, on the other hand… That he could actually return her feelings was a question she was never certain of. Often, she lay in bed at night after a long day of pain and bloodshed when all that she could do to help her comrades was done, and she was so tired she could hardly keep her mind focused without drifting into dreams, and she wondered, does he love me?

The looks she thought she sometimes caught… The smile she thought she sometimes saw… His complete and undying devotion to her… Were these signs? Could they be hope? When he brushed her hair, and she stared into his eyes in the reflection of her mirror, she believed— sometimes she truly believed she saw something there, something more. So many times when she saw his look, she opened her mouth to speak the words… Only to have doubt strangle her throat. Her jaw would snap shut, her eyes dart away, and a blush warm her face and ears.

What would he say? How would he react if he knew the truth? She felt like a double-sided coin, half of her certain he would respond with similar words, half of her certain he would not, and from day to day, she was hardly more sure of one side than the other.

She felt as though she were in darkness and the next step would either take her home or lead her forever away from the one she loved.

After nights upon nights of deliberation, she decided something: The only possible way to have a chance of perceiving how he might feel towards her was to spend more time with him… And what better way to do that than to make him teach her something—something she could learn to do for him?

It hadn't been easy convincing him to show her how to make tea… And his words of loyalty and devotion made her heart race, her head spin… She couldn't remember a time in all her life it was harder to maintain an appearance of calm, of… of… indifference…

She wasn't sure how she had managed it, but in the end, she received his promise of teaching her and escaped soon afterwards to her bedroom where she melted into the floor and lay there with a desperately hopeful expression on her face…

It was a while before the shaking wore off, and she was calm enough to leave her chambers again. If people noticed how cheerful she was once she did, they didn't comment. And if her eyes frequently sought out Jakob, always in the background, watching over her or helping her if help was needed, nobody seemed to notice.

What followed was Jakob spending time with her, a teapot nearby, in every free hour.

Apparently, she was inept at tea-making because no matter how he showed her, she always managed to get something wrong.

Jakob was careful and meticulous in how he taught and once or twice even asked her permission to cover her hands with his and guide her through the movements of grinding a particular kind of tea leaves. She agreed only too quickly, and just as she knew it would, her skin ignited at his touch. The fire from his hands burned all the way to her head, until she was warm and dizzy. Even so, she couldn't help glancing at him every other second as he directed her. He was so close, so very close, and when he glanced at her and seemed to notice the exact same thing, he froze for just a moment too long before releasing her and turning around and stuttering something about tea leaves.

But she didn't hear. A thrill was pulsing through her, and nothing in the world matted but the look in his eyes a moment before.

She couldn't believe what she did next, intentionally ruining the tea leaves so he might show her again, but she needed him, wanted him close to her. She felt like Camilla, using such a ploy, but before she could change her mind, it was done. "Oh, Jakob, I've done it again," she sighed. "I'm sorry… I feel like I'm on the verge of getting it… Maybe if you just guided my hands once more, I can get it."

"A-Ah…" He hesitated only a second. "If my Lady wishes it…"

As somberly as she could, she nodded. "Please."

He went to take her hands again, but Corrin stopped him, "Oh, but not like that. Wrap your arms around me." She blushed as soon the words left her mouth, but it was too late to change them.

"I beg your p-pardon?" Jakob stammered.

"Put your arms around me and look over my shoulder. You'll… be able to see what I'm seeing that way."

"R-Right," he looked a little uncertain but stepped around her nonetheless. A hush of anticipation arose… And then his hands slid down her arms, his body pressed against hers, his breath warmed her ear, and all his previous hesitation disappeared. Her skin was on fire, but he guided her with soft words and gentle touch, not appearing to notice the trembling in her limbs or the high pitch of her voice.

What Corrin couldn't understand, and what hurt more sharply than anything, was Jakob… avoiding her…

Ever since he had confessed to adding water and sugar to her bitter tea, ever since she told him she needed him, ever since they agreed to stay together forever—a promise that had made her heart soar—she had barely seen him. More than once she caught only his tail end as he turned a corner or exited a building. When they were together, when they had to be together for one reason or another, he barely spoke to her, but, rather, seemed to watch her with something strange in his eyes… Something like regret.

She didn't understand what had happened. She rifled through her memories to see what she may have done wrong. How might she have offended him? Why was her presence suddenly so unwanted? She didn't know, and her heart broke a little every time she saw him disappear. He evaded her, and she began to lose whatever hope she had gained.

So when she saw him a few days later in the kitchen, alone and washing some dishes, staring mindlessly at the soap suds on his hands, she decided to approach him. Swallowing, she gathered her courage… and stepped towards him. Plastering a pleasant expression on her face, she spoke his name and asked him to show her how to make a particular kind of tea.

He glanced at her, surprised to see her there, then turned again, drying his hands on a small towel and answering, "Certainly, my Lady…"

His voice held a caution, a hesitancy that wasn't there before, and Corrin's smile fell. "Are you… quite alright, Jakob?"

"Me?" His eyes turned to hers, then flickered away again, as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Well then—? That is… Have I, perhaps… done something to offend you?"

"Offend me! You?" He froze, startled by her question, his knuckles white on the handle of the teapot. "Certainly not, Lady Corrin. Believe me, that is not—You could— You could never offend me." He set the pot down heavily, staring at it like he had never seen such a contraption before.

She moved a little closer to him. "If that's true, then… Jakob, I couldn't help but notice that you… You seem to have been avoiding me." He shut his eyes as if in pain, and Corrin beseeched him, "Am I mistaken?"

"No… No, you are not mistaken. I apologize, my Lady. I did not mean to cause worry…"

"If… If I have not offended you, then… May I ask why?"

He let out a breath, tired and remorseful. "It is because there is something I must tell you that I… do not wish to say." He glanced at her, fighting to appear impassive and resolute. "I can no longer serve as your butler."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. At first she wanted to laugh, sure he was making some kind of joke, but the sadness in his eyes… the strange crook of his eyebrows… He meant it. The blood drained from her head. The world tilted under her feet, and it was all she could do to raise one hand to her forehead and clutch at the counter with the other. All she could think was he knew. Somehow, he knew she was in love with him, and he did not return her feelings.

"I am… deeply sorry, but I… I see no other choice."

Corrin just barely heard his words over the ringing in her ears, but when they pierced her mind, she looked up, and grasped his forearms, tears in her eyes, and pleaded, "No. No, Jakob, please don't say that! You don't have to go. I-I need you."

He looked at her with dismay, and his voice cracked when he spoke, "M-My Lady… You don't understand…"

"Don't I?"

He looked away, "My Lady, I… I am in love with you."

For the second time in as many minutes, Corrin couldn't believe her ears. She stared at him, her grip on his arms tightening until she knew it must be painful, but she couldn't think. She couldn't think, and she didn't know whether she was laughing or sobbing. He watched her with confusion, with anxiety, but before she could manage words, she entwined her arms around his chest and laid her head on his shoulder and shook.

"Jakob… Oh, Jakob," she babbled. "You don't even know, do you?" She turned her face into his neck and pressed her lips against his skin. Before she could do so a second time, Jakob's hands were on her shoulders, pushing her back so he could look at her, look into her face, her eyes, and see what her tongue was too numb to speak. He stared aghast at the love clearly displayed in the expression she wore.

And then his mouth was on hers, hungry and desperate.

The tears from her eyes mingled in the kiss, making something so sweet suddenly savory as well, and she was laughing, moaning, clutching onto his vest as she steadied herself with the counter she was pushed against. She was giddy, delirious, joy bubbling up inside her so forcibly she could hardly keep the grin from spreading across her lips.

Delight and ecstasy. Her deepest, longest, heartfelt wish was real! He loved her. Jakob loved her. The world was somehow beautiful again.

His arms were wrapped around her, so passionately that she wasn't sure where he ended and she began. With his lips moving against hers, she didn't even mind. In fact, she would be perfectly happy to stay so entangled forever.

Unfortunately, somehow in their desperate connection, a glass got knocked aside. There was a sound of wobbling, followed by a crash as it struck the floor, and Corrin yelped with surprise. Before her drunken mind could process what had happened, Jakob shifted and lifted her into his arms. She grabbed hold of him, yelping his name in surprise.

"I'm moving you safely away from the glass," he explained, and she stared at him. She simply couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled up. Of course he was. Of course he was thinking of her. He always was. She wound her arms around his neck and leaned her head on his chest, and murmured, "Oh, Jakob, I love you."

He stopped mid-step, stumbled, slightly off balance. Froze. Stared sightlessly in front of him, eyes wide. Then he looked at her, slowly, searchingly, and whispered, "Say it again."

Corrin, smiling wide with happiness, kissed his jaw once, twice, and said, "I love you, Jakob."

She looked at him again, watched his expression change from agitation and disbelief to stunned happiness, to ecstasy. His eyes shone when he spoke the words, "Marry me."

And Corrin couldn't say Yes! fast enough.