The hand of Byleth Eisner rested idly atop her desk, a long feathered quill between her fingers and a small inkpot near the corner of the table's surface. Before her was a sheet of paper of considerable length that had every inch of it covered in writing. There were dozens of blank lines on the document meant for Byleth's signature, but only a small amount of them were actually filled. Judging by the large stack of documents that sat set aside on the desk, one could assume that she had been doing this for a while.

Byleth's eyes were tired and her mouth hung ever so slightly open, as if she were on the verge of passing out right then and there. Her quill dripped ink onto the paper, but she could not find it within herself to care. She was exhausted. She had expected her new position as the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros to be a primarily ceremonial one, though apparently there was much diplomacy that she was obligated to engage in.

It was night time now, and the moon's light spilled into the room through the window of Byleth's office. Garreg Mach Monastery was still undergoing renovations, but it had taken no time at all for the religious parts of the area to be restored to their former glory. This included the room Rhea had once called her own, but it now belonged to Byleth. The woman's eyes were growing strained from the harsh warm light of the lantern hanging on the wall, but she forced herself to continue onward with her work.

Byleth was so lost in her own head that she did not even notice the door opening and closing, nor did she notice the footsteps approaching her. Behind her, one of her beloved former students frowned.

"Professor?"

"Ah!" Byleth quickly shot up in surprise and jumped out of her seat to turn around. Had she a heartbeat, her chest would certainly be pounding. Upon realizing just who it was, she let out a deep breath and shook her head. "Mercedes. I'm sorry, you scared me. Do you need something?"

From her first day at the Officer's Academy all the way up to the fall of the Adrestian Empire, Mercedes had been one of her most trusted and reliable allies. Both Byleth and Dimitri would have fallen during the final battle had it not been for her healing prowess, though even outside of combat she was an important asset to the Blue Lions. While she may have only been two years older than Byleth, Mercedes acted as a sort of motherly influence on her and the rest of her classmates. She was known for her serene and calming smile, though now she only bore a frown.

"Oh, my apologies. I should have knocked. I'll be sure to be more considerate next time." Mercedes shuffled where she stood and bit her lip with her hands held behind her back. Her uncomfortable body language let Byleth know that something was amiss.

"Was there something you needed?" she asked while forcing down a yawn. Her base instincts were telling her to fall asleep right then and there, but she forced herself to maintain the appearance of being fully awake.

Without a word, Mercedes sighed before revealing just what she was hiding behind her back, extending her arms and presenting the object in her hands. Byleth stared at the envelope complete with the crimson wax seal of Adrestria and blinked. A million thoughts flooded her mind at once, but she held her tongue and instead remained levelheaded.

"Is…is this another letter from Hubert? Did we miss one somehow?" Byleth asked as she gently took the envelope from Mercedes' hands. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise upon contact. The paper was yellow and weathered, a sign that it was far older than the letter they had received from the late Hubert von Vestra weeks ago before the siege on Enbarr.

"I don't think so," Mercedes answered. "During renovations earlier today, the workers found this in the room that used to belong to Edelgard. Usually they would put something like this aside for assessment later, but considering the person in question, they thought it best that they get it to you by the end of the day. I'm not sure why, but they gave it to me to deliver. I was only even here to give a sermon in the chapel, but…"

Byleth could feel her still heart sink in her chest. Within the envelope she was holding this very moment was something that Edelgard had written, likely years ago. The very thought of reading something written by the person she fell in love with so long ago made her hands tremble. What could it have been about? Who was it meant for? During their time using the monastery as a base of operations, had no one thought to check Edelgard's room? Byleth could never bring herself to even go near the place, but she figured that someone would have the curiosity to have done so.

Swallowing, Byleth tightly held the paper in her grip and smiled at Mercedes, who still appeared to be rather disconcerted.

"Thank you, Mercedes. Your assistance is greatly appreciated."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me. I was just doing those men a favor." She forced a smile and took a trepidatious step back towards the room's door. "I…should be going now…Professor, whatever it is that letter holds, please try not to get too sad, for your sake. I know that you and her were close. It's okay to cry sometimes, but you can't let that sorrow eat away at you."

Byleth pressed her lips together and remained silent. If only Mercedes knew just how close they were.

"Good night. I hope you get enough sleep with how busy you've been."

"Thank you," Byleth responded. "Good night!"

The instant the door closed behind Mercedes, Byleth turned around and threw open the top drawer of her desk, immediately grabbed a silver letter opener and tore open the top of the envelope. The archbishop eagerly reached in and withdrew the folded sheet of paper within before tossing the envelope aside, taking a moment to attempt steadying her shaking hands before gently unfolding the paper, careful not to crease or tear it. She bit down on her tongue the moment she laid eyes on the handwriting—it was Edelgard's for certain. With an unsteady breath, she began to read.

Byleth,

I don't ever call you by your name, do I? No one does. Even Jeralt just uses nicknames and the like to refer to you; everyone at the monastery simply calls you "Professor". I suppose that it is out of respect for your prowess not only on the battlefield, but in the classroom as well. How do you feel about that? Would you like it if people used your name to refer to you? Perhaps I could be the only one to do so, seeing as how we are now in a relationship and I digress; that is not what this letter is about. I've spent an awful long time deliberating on how I would go about doing this, but I suppose that my time has run out at this point. In the approaching days, I am sure that you will come to find that the identity of the Flame Emperor is none other than myself. While you certainly have a myriad of questions for me, I do not think that it would be proper for me to answer them all in the form of a letter. I would much rather do so in person, though I suppose if you're reading this, then the chances of that happening are slim.

I anticipate that there will be a point where you must raise your blade on me, and if what my heart tells me holds true, then you will refuse. I would like to tell myself that your feelings for me are strong enough that you'll take my hand and choose to walk my destined path by my side, however, I know that that is not a likely outcome. My methods could be considered extreme and I know that I have caused much hardship for both you and your allies. Know that I take no pleasure in my past needs and that everything I have ever done has been in service of a brighter future for all of Fódlan. I assure you that I would have avoided any harm to you and the rest of the Blue Lions had I been able to. All I wish to do is dismantle the corrupt aristocracy that we have been living under for far too long.

You of all people know all too well my views on the Crest system, so I know that you're aware of the future I aim to reach. You know me best, Byleth, so surely you did not expect me to go my entire life without actively fighting against this unjust society Rhea and the church have built. As the newly crowned Emperor of Adrestria, it is my duty to ensure that Fodlan is ushered into a new era of prosperity and freedom from the oppressive caste system. Never again do I wish to see a pair of brothers torn apart by crests. People should make their way through societal ranks based on their own merit, not through uncontrollable circumstances of their birth.

Know that the thought of fighting you makes my heart ache. If it were to come to it, I am not sure if I could bring myself to hurt you. I hope with every fiber of my being that you never lay eyes on this document, as it would mean that you chose to lend me your aid in this conflict. I love you, Byleth. The love I hold for you is stronger than anything I have felt in all my years of life. As a woman, I would never want for us to be apart, but as a leader, I must consider that possibility. That is exactly the reason why I am writing this letter to you. I won't get the chance to say what I need should I have to leave you suddenly, so here it all is. I can only hope that I will instead be telling you all this face to face in the comfort of our own bedroom.

Going forward in this conflict, I want you to remember me not as that tyrannical Emperor who disrupted the state of assumed peace and split people from their beloved comrades, but as Edelgard, the woman you love. I will cherish the time we've spent together until my dying breath, and I can only hope that you will as well. While I have no intention of doing so, if I am to fall, then I can only hope that it will at the very least be by your hand. I love you, Byleth. Please never forget this.

Dearly,

El

Byleth's trembling hands tightly gripped the document as they shook and she had to force herself to be gentle, for she did not want to damage it. Biting down hard on her tongue, she gently placed the sheet of paper on her desk and allowed her arms to fall loosely at her side before her knees finally gave out and tears began to spill from her eyes. She choked back her sobs, not wanting to make any noise or alert anyone who could be nearby. Regardless, she wanted to scream. She wanted to scream, or break something, but most of all, she wanted her Edelgard back.

The archbishop touched her forehead to the floor and slammed her fist once against the wood, searching for some sort of catharsis and finding nothing. It wasn't fair. No, it wasn't fair at all. Over the past five years, Byleth had lost so much. First she had lost her father, then she had lost Edelgard, then Dimitri—though he was able to be found eventually. Even Sothis had left her. Over time, she had lost her friends. Dorothea, Petra, Caspar, Ferdinand, everyone. Even poor Bernadetta had met her demise at the reluctant hands of Felix what felt like an eternity ago. Byleth thought back to the timid girl's final expressions and felt her heart ache even further. Finally, she had lost Edelgard one final time, and this time she was gone for good.

Byleth tightened her fist further and further until her nails threatened to break her skin and draw blood, then finally, she could hold it in no longer. With her mouth wide and her eyes squeezed shut, she let out a despaired cry of sorrow and began to loudly sob to yourself, unaware of both the ink now slowly spilling onto the document she had been signing as well as the woman listening closely just outside.

With her ear pressed against the door, Mercedes tightly clutched at her chest and tried to hold back her own tears. She bit her lip before quickly walking away, feeling it rude to intrude on what Byleth surely thought was a private moment. While she held no love for Edelgard as her former professor did, she mourned for her nonetheless. Mercedes could only hope that Byleth would one day find closure.

A/N: This chapter's featured song is Leave Out All The Rest by Linkin Park.