She felt exposed.
Even within Balen's embrace she could feel the number of eyes watching her steadily growing as the seconds ticked on. A peek over her brother's shoulder confirmed a number of Golden Deer students returning with small groups of survivors. Claude met them, whispering something, and their gaze inevitably flickered to them.
She ducked back, shielding herself even as she pushed Balen back a step.
She was fine. Not even crying anymore.
And he was needed.
Her father was waiting anyways, having abandoned his horse where he had been in favor of drawing to Blaise's side. She looked up into blue-grey eyes which hid such a myriad of emotions, Blaise couldn't name any of them.
"Balen…" her father's voice was rougher than she remembered. He held her gaze like he couldn't look at her enough despite speaking to her brother. "Gather everyone you can find together. We'll be leaving in ten."
It took a moment where Blaise thought Balen might just argue, but her brother nodded and, with a final glance at Blaise, leant down for his sword. Blaise recoiled, physically jumping a full step back while jerking her Crest back to herself before he could touch the blade. Some measure of shame returned over her reaction though neither her father or Balen acted as if they noticed.
Jeralt, instead, knelt so he no longer towered over her, Blaise eyeing his hand as it reached for her, but he only ran his fingers through her tangled hair in an action that was half-caress and half-tousle.
"You look rough, Kid," he whispered. It was an attempt at lightening the mood but simultaneously sad and angry and relieved all in one messy bundle. His thumb shifted over her cheek and Blaise could feel the dull ache of a bruise despite the soft touch. "Leonie," his voice rose in a command.
"Captain?" Leonie responded without delay.
"Ride ahead and tell Manuela I am bringing my daughter straight to the infirmary."
"On it, Sir!"
Blaise caught a glimpse of Leonie swinging herself up into her saddle before she was once again drawn by her father's movements as he stood. His hand moved to her back, lightly encouraging her forward.
She dug her heels into the ground.
Too many eyes watching, waiting, judging. Her fingers dug into the Flame Emperor's cloak as she ducked her head to hide behind a curtain of her hair. She pretended not to notice her father pause to consider her, pretended she found the ash-covered debris at her feet fascinating.
A low whistle sounded from beside her, her father calling his steed to them instead.
The familiar mare answered immediately. She trotted forward, shaking her great head as she stopped in front of Jeralt with a whinny.
Blaise felt a little better hidden behind the steed and allowed her father to help her into the saddle which he then followed. She settled back against him, resting and doing her best to hide from prying eyes.
They moved out with them in the front, the villagers behind, and the Golden Deer on the outskirts. Balen maneuvered around until he walked beside them, his attention on Blaise alone.
She wished he wouldn't stare.
It made their arrival at Garreg Mach a welcome relief. The marketplace was bustling when they passed through the gates with Knights having clearly been positioned to help funnel villagers to different areas for healing.
She felt lost in the flow, invisible.
"Captain!"
Or not.
"Not now, Alois," her father grunted and, in a show of exactly how masterful he was at horseback, easily led his steed past a now-gaping Alois. Through the mass of people they weaved until they had broken past the crowd and the horse could pick up speed. They had lost Balen and the rest of the Golden Deer or maybe the class of students just had to regroup before being dismissed.
Either way, it was just her and her father when they made it to the stairwell and Jeralt dismounted. He lifted her off and it became quite apparent he wasn't going to set her down. A part of her was relieved because there were so many stairs, but the other part of her berated her need.
Reduced to... this. An invalid or a child, she wasn't sure which she preferred.
Manuela was ready and waiting in the infirmary which was, blessedly, empty. She directed them towards the back where the beds with the privacy screens were located and Blaise felt her heart squeeze.
Long-term care.
But at least visitors wouldn't be able to stare at her all the time.
She had barely been settled on the bed when Manuela swooped over her, starting with checking the dilation of her eyes and working her way down. She barely lingered in any one spot whether it was a bruise, a laceration, a broken bone, or any other such ailment, but Blaise had the distinct feeling she didn't miss a single discrepancy and noted every one of them. Manuela spoke casually as she worked, filling the silence with an oddly soothing chatter Professor Hanneman would call needless.
And it really probably was needless as Manuela rambled about a sword dance she'd performed at Mittlefrank Opera back in her youth, but it was safe.
For the both of them.
Blaise could see the evidence of her distress in the lines around her eyes and the way they constantly flickered to meet Blaise's.
She must look utterly horrid.
It took five minutes for Manuela to convince her father to step back behind the privacy screen so Blaise could change into a fresh gown. That in and of itself turned into quite a situation when Manuela attempted to help Blaise out of the Flame Emperor's cloak and something snapped within the distressed former mercenary.
She spun, her muscles winding tight in a way not unlike a cornered cat while her fists clenched the heavy, red fabric.
In a show of exactly why Manuela was the head physician of Garreg Mach, she responded immediately with a step back and some soothing words until Blaise calmed down enough that Manuela could coax her into changing, all the while allowing Blaise to cling to the cloak for security.
It was dragged back into the bed with her as Manuela ushered her to relax.
Not that she was able to relax much.
Even with her father returned to her side, it wasn't easy for Manuela to coax her into allowing an IV drip. Then came a rather aggressive treatment of white magic.
It was odd. White magic was usually soft, refreshing, and warm but, when concentrated throughout the entire body, was beyond uncomfortable and even painful where it lingered to repair what was broken.
Despite it all, she was feeling quite sleepy with a growing numbness by the time Manuela ceded the white magic and lifted her weakened wrist. A part of her knew they were going to have to reset it. She knew it hadn't healed right. She knew that was what was about to happen before her father shifted her to look in the opposite direction, his forehead creased with worry.
"She will not feel a thing, Jeralt," Manuela's words were distorted by a haze.
Ahh… that's what this was.
She must have put something in the IV besides fluids.
Her father said something or maybe it was a simple grunt of acknowledgement.
Blaise had to agree as her vision faded to black and she slipped into unconsciousness. She couldn't feel anything through the haze.
She didn't mind.
~FE~
When Blaise awoke, she heard voices. They were nearby and a little loud yet distinctly low as if they were attempting to be quiet. She opened her eyes to the light of day, an experience that was somehow foreign despite doing so her entire life other than the past...?
How long had she been in the dark again?
She could have groaned as she forced herself to scan the room for… enemies? Allies? She wasn't sure of that either.
Blaise recognized the voices now.
Her father and Rhea, disagreeing on something if she had to wager a guess. Probably something to do with herself.
"- needs to rest. Manuela's orders," her father's gravelly voice carried to her from the other side of the privacy screen.
"I understand your concern, Jeralt. I have no intention of interfering with her healing, but we must gather whatever information she knows lest our enemies make another attempt upon her or another," Rhea insisted.
Yes, definitely her.
Blaise's eyebrows furrowed at the statement and she felt her muscles ache at the very thought of that conversation.
She was so tired.
"They've been having the same argument for hours."
Blaise winced, snapping her head around to find Balen seated on a chair at her bedside. He leaned forward, his expression as blank as it had been as when they were growing up. What was different, however, was that he must have been able to read the anxiety on her face since he continued speaking, "I don't think father or Manuela will allow Rhea back here yet."
That was a relief.
Blaise dropped her head back on the pillows in favor of staring at the ceiling. It was white. Not much to see really.
That was fine. Balen was clearly feeling unusually talkative and that was more than enough stimulation for her.
"Manuela won't let anyone back here. The Black Eagles had to give me letters to bring you until they are allowed to visit. They're on the table."
She tilted her head to her side table where, sure enough, a stack of parchment rested. She felt kind of strange, like she didn't really care to read them, but she still slid the letters into her lap anyway. Blaise picked absently through, searching for one in particular though she wouldn't admit it to herself.
Balen knew her too well, she realized. He reached out, his hand resting upon hers so that she stopped shuffling and looked up into blue eyes as familiar as her own. There was something there. Sympathy maybe.
She knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say.
"Edelgard had to withdraw a few weeks after you went missing. She and Hubert returned to Enbarr to care for her father," he admitted.
Blaise stared at him and the moments ticked by in a suffocating silence.
She's not here?
Balen shook his head.
Oh...
She glanced down at the letters spread across her lap, rejection returning to sting seemingly every part of her. Her eyes burned.
I wasn't looking for one from her.
A lie. Obviously.
Balen said nothing as he gathered each letter up with care and returned them to a neat pile on the table. "She left an invitation to Enbarr for you and Dorothea said she would send a letter to her to let her know you're safe. She'll write back. Claude seemed to think she left so she could use Imperial resources to find you."
Blaise blinked, eyes invariably flickering to the red cloak at her side.
Another myriad of complicated feelings swelled within her as Balen pulled an official scroll from his cloak. She took it anyways, curling her fingers around it in a delicate fist. It's weight was somehow soothing in it's own right.
Balen opened his mouth to say something further only for Manuela's voice to cut through. "If all you two are going to do is bicker, then take it elsewhere. I have patients to take care of and they do not need you disturbing them. Go on. Get out," she ordered.
"My daughter-"
"Has Balen. Come back when he leaves," Manuela interrupted.
"Manuela, surely you understand the necessity-"
"I do and it can stand to wait another day or two," the physician argued.
It was… actually a bit amusing to hear Manuela kicking out the Archbishop and one of the top knights and Blaise quirked the barest of smiles. She suddenly realized how much she'd missed Manuela.
She heard some departing footsteps moments before Manuela stepped around the screen, brown eyes immediately meeting blue. Manuela huffed as she fell upon Blaise. "The nerve of those two, no doubt disturbing your rest. I should ban them returning for such selfish-"
"Blaise woke up on her own," Balen cut in.
Manuela glared at him from over Blaise. "Yes and you were supposed to tell me immediately. Consider yourself lucky, I'm allowing you to stay. If the alternative wasn't Jeralt who I just kicked out..." she left the grumbled threat hanging in the air.
Balen was unfazed.
Manuela huffed a second time before giving Blaise her full attention. "How are you feeling, dear?" she inquired, tone softening.
Exhausted, hurt, angry, sad, frightened... It was a convoluted question.
Fine.
"Are you sure? Your pulse is high," Manuela stated, her lips pressed into a thin line that told Blaise she didn't believe her.
Blaise didn't grace the question with any further response. Manuela was perfectly capable of understanding what wasn't said.
Sure enough, the physician made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat as she continued her ministrations. "You're healing nicely. Your bruising is down, most lacerations won't leave so much as a scar, I reset your wrist and ..." she paused to lift said wrist, coaxing Blaise to move each finger one at a time, "... it'll be a while yet, but you should be back to swinging a sword." Manuela sighed, stepping back and considering Blaise with a frown. "Honestly, your physical condition has improved beyond my expectations," she admitted.
Blaise didn't miss the emphasis on the word "physical."
It must have flown right over Balen's head, however, as her brother leaned forward again. "She'll be able to leave the infirmary then?" he asked.
Manuela glanced at him, one finger tapping her lip. "There are a few other expectations before then. For one, I expect to see her eating consistently. Perhaps you would fetch something for her from the Dining Hall? Not a lot, something light. Just ask the chef for something suitable," Manuela suggested in such a way that left little room for Balen to argue.
Not that Balen was prone to arguing. He did look to Blaise, however, before giving the slightest of nods and leaving without another word.
Blaise was hyperaware how Manuela stared her down as the sound of Balen's footsteps echoed and faded. It made her fidget with nerves. The former Songstress seemed to age a few years in minutes as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the bed.
"You had me and the kids worried sick."
Blaise grimaced with guilt.
Sorry.
Manuela laughed and it sounded strange. Bitter. "You are the last person who needs to apologize," she assured. With a shake of her head, she slowly reached out to point at Blaise's left collarbone. "That one has not improved with white magic. It will likely scar," she admitted softly.
Blaise brushed a finger over the Crest of Chevalier they had marked her with. She wasn't surprised.
"It isn't my place to ask for details, but my experience is that it does help to work through unpleasant… memories. I will not be able to hold the Archbishop off for long once you start leaving the infirmary, and she will not be as considerate. If you want to talk, I will be happy to listen anytime and, if you agree, I would also like to allow the girls to visit you."
Blaise nodded without thinking much into it.
No, she wasn't going to Sign or write what happened out and she wasn't in the mood for visitors but... she could suffer through the latter. Manuela had said they'd been worried and that was the least she could do for them.
"Perhaps this evening then?" she suggested.
Again, Blaise nodded.
Manuela was silent, waiting as if she expected something more, but, eventually, she rose. "I'll let you rest. Your brother should be back soon."
Manuela was halfway out of Blaise's makeshift room when Blaise jerked forward, snapping her fingers for the physician's attention. Manuela paused her retreat and looked over her shoulder at her.
Balen said Edelgard left.
Blaise didn't know what she wanted Manuela to say. It wasn't like she believed Balen had been lying to her...
Manuela's features shifted and Blaise was certain her expression was sympathy. "She did. Dorothea is reaching out to her so she knows you are safe."
Right.
Except Edelgard did know. Probably.
"I was here in the Infirmary myself, but I hear she was quite distressed and went on many search patrols with Jeralt. She will be relieved to know you are safe."
It was meant to be reassuring but Blaise felt kind of like her chest was being crushed as she collapsed back against her pillows and threw an arm over her eyes. She heard Manuela leave and she was grateful to be alone.
~FE~
Blaise was given the okay to leave the infirmary in but a few days with the condition that she take it easy. She knew she looked significantly better than when she arrived, not least of which because Dorothea, Petra, and Bernadetta dragged the want to at least appear better out of her.
Still, she didn't leave.
She didn't like what she heard had changed in her time away. Edelgard and Hubert withdrawn while some cheery, red-head hung around instead. Dorothea expressed some concern regarding this "Monica's" attitude being over-dramatic, Petra stated she moved like a shadow, and Bernadetta was downright terrified of garnering any sort of attention from her.
And, granted, Bernadetta's reaction was expected.
It didn't change the fact Blaise didn't like Monica even before Petra let slip the red-head had always pulled Edelgard away outside of class.
At that, the very thought made her blood boil.
Because Monica was suspicious...
…Obviously that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.
…
…Dorothea had been quick to change the subject.
Apparently, Manuela had been injured by Jeritza shortly after Blaise had been taken so Jeralt and Alois had been fill-in teachers. Bernadetta seemed to have handled that transition relatively well although everyone was ecstatic to have Manuela back.
And Blaise, Dorothea insisted, not so subtly broaching the subject of Blaise's return to the Black Eagles.
Blaise said she didn't feel well and tried to ignore the rather crushed looks from the students.
The Battle of the Eagle and Lion had been postponed as well which Blaise wasn't the most familiar with, but she could appreciate the gravity of Rhea changing her mind about something. Hell, the woman had insisted on continuing with the Rite of Rebirth with a potential assassination attempt hanging over her head.
The Archbishop was another source of anxiety for Blaise. She had yet to make another attempt to visit, but Blaise worried the second she set foot outside the infirmary, the Archbishop would be all over her.
And Blaise wanted to talk to her the least of everyone.
She was worrying people. Her father, Balen, Manuela, the Black Eagles. She knew that. How often in her life had she chosen to sit in bed all day when she could wander, explore, get herself into trouble? No one had probably known she was even capable of staying in one place for so long.
But what could she say? She'd gotten used to waiting and at least it wasn't always dark here.
In the end, Blaise wasn't allowed to wallow, no matter how much she resented being forced out before she wanted to be. Seteth was the one to break the news to her about a week after her return. The Advisor invited himself in, delivering a request for her presence to a meeting on "the next course of action." She'd been given a strict timeline. Jeralt would pick her up in an hour and she was expected to look presentable.
Presentable was a matter of perspective, but she still tried.
If she had to put herself out there... she was more likely to be left alone if she gave the impression she was fine.
Blaise brushed her hair, inquired Balen to find her some new light armor and a sword while Manuela secured the regular clothing underneath. By the time, Jeralt picked her up, Blaise appeared much the same as she always had save for the dark crimson cloak over her shoulders, the brace still on her wrist, and being quite a bit thinner.
Jeralt considered her through narrowed eyes. Blaise forced a smile that may or may not have been convincing since he sighed and placed a hand against her back, gently leading her forward.
To the Audience Chamber.
Past statue after statue of the Goddess who she swore was watching her, accusing her.
She tried to ignore the growing fear deep inside.
"Kid," her father's call and the subsequent stop in their walk caught her off-guard. He steered her toward the Captain's Quarters, shutting the door behind them. "I want to talk to you first," he admitted.
She hesitated, eyes flickering over her shoulder at the door, but then nodded.
"I owe you an explanation long overdue..." Jeralt paused, letting out a breath that was half-grunt, half-sigh. It stretched for a significant moment where he stared out the window in an unfocused sort of way.
It made Blaise slightly concerned about what he had to say.
When he met her gaze again, he held it steady. "…I left the Knights of Seiros nearly twenty one years ago, shortly after your birth. Your mother... was a nun here. She passed during childbirth and is buried here at the monastery. I started a fire and disappeared with you and Balen in the chaos."
Blaise blinked. This year had been nothing but secrets and reveals and her father had been no exception when it came to his past with the Knights of Seiros… When it came to her mother. It was hard to be surprised anymore.
But a fire? Why couldn't he just leave? Why did he even want to leave when he had two young children? Two babies? A mercenary's life was an interesting choice.
She tilted her head.
You started a fire?
Jeralt rubbed the back of his neck. "Balen… was always an odd child and Rhea was… attentive. There was something I didn't know. I knew that so I consulted a trusted individual, a doctor, and, what I learned, terrified me. I doubted, still doubt, Rhea would allow me to walk away with him."
So Rhea had a thing for Balen even then...
But why? What was so special about her brother? The only thing she could think of was the Crest of Flames, but surely this wasn't all over a Crest no matter how rare it was.
The mention of a doctor stood out to her.
But there wasn't anything really wrong with Balen. He was just Balen. Closed off and impassive much of his life but that wasn't a disease.
"I thought at first she hired sellswords to return Balen. There were many attempts in the beginning, when the two of you were young. All aimed for him… until one morning I awoke to rain on my face, the cloth of the tent ripped by a blade, and Balen alone on the bedroll the two of you shared." His voice cracked, his sentence cutting off abruptly.
Blaise felt her blood run cold as the conversation turned toward her.
They took me.
Her father grunted. "Do you remember?"
No.
But she'd heard it multiple times now and she was glad she didn't remember. How terrified had she been as a toddler to be taken into such a dark place? She dared not follow that train of thought any further.
"You were... different when you returned," Jeralt admitted.
… Different?
Blaise scrunched her eyes at the word before calling forth her Crest in her hand. She watched her father consider the shadow of Chevalier. Watched him nod and reach out to curl her fingers inward until it disappeared.
For some reason, she felt even colder.
"I have never been so worried, Kid."
She made no effort to reply. She didn't know what to say.
"I've been questioning whether returning to the monastery was the right course of action, whether I should have ever left to begin with," he admitted. "Many would say it foolish to raise two children in a life as a mercenary, that remaining would have been stable and better for you."
What would it have been like being raised at Garreg Mach? Would she still have been given the Crest of Chevalier? Would she still feel haunted by the Church's judgement?
You regret it?
She didn't think she wanted him to regret it.
She loved Chevalier and how could she have loved her under the roof of the Church?
"I tell them where a child may have learned honor, loyalty, and faith, my daughter is bold, independent, and fierce. You have proven time and time again that you can thrive amidst adversity. I will never regret that."
Blaise dropped her gaze to her feet. She didn't feel much like she was thriving. Surviving maybe... by tooth and nail... walking along a precipice she was likely to slip upon.
Her father's hand cupped her cheek, gently raising her face up from the ground until she looked at him. "Remember that, won't you, Kid? No matter what," he implored in a whisper.
She nodded.
She would remember.
Even if she didn't believe it.
Jeralt smiled, squeezing her shoulder. "Come. We should hit up that meeting before Seteth searches us out."
Blaise smiled, just a little, at that and fell in step the remaining short distance to the Audience Chamber. She was led through the chamber to another room she'd only been in once before when Rhea had called the meeting following the Black Eagles being attacked at Magdred. There was a long table with many chairs on every side. She was surprised to find both Professors Hanneman and Manuela seated alongside Balen, Seteth, and, of course, Rhea.
She hoped that meant this meeting wasn't about her. She couldn't think of why Hanneman, Manuela, Seteth, and even Balen would need to hear anything she had to say about her past couple of months. She might could limp her way through some other kind of meeting.
She settled in the open space next to Manuela, her father on her other side.
"Blaise, may I express my relief at seeing you recover with such haste. Truly the Goddess is gracious with her blessings," Rhea greeted with her usual air of serenity, a small smile settled on her face.
Blaise blinked, feeling every muscle in her body tense at the attention despite it's apparent innocence. Was she imagining the cold depths of her eyes? The guarded suspicion? She heard it again, a whisper in her mind with the same voice and tone Rhea had just used.
The Goddess demands penance...
She fiddled with her chest plate, unable to look away until she'd have sworn she was the only one remaining in the room.
Someone cleared their throat and Rhea broke the eye contact.
"If I may get us back to the meeting. You were saying the White Heron Cup will continue as planned?" Hanneman inquired.
She snapped back to reality with a jerk as a mild shame settled over her. She tried to focus on what Hanuman had said instead of the concerned looks she knew were upon her.
The White Heron Cup, he had said? What in the Goddess's name was that?
"Yes, as will the ball to celebrate the founding of Garreg Mach," Seteth stated.
And a ball?
"We do believe the students deserve some cheer and we have already confirmed to our other guests the ball would continue as normal. It would reflect poorly should the nobility of our three countries arrange plans to attend only to have it cancelled," Rhea continued.
"And you have received confirmation of their intent to attend?" Hanneman pressed.
Seteth gave the sharpest of nods. "The acting Regent, Arch Duke Rufus of Itha will be leading the emissary from the Kingdom and Lady Judith von Daphnel will be representing the Alliance."
"And Adrestia?" Manuela asked.
Seteth crossed his arms. "We received a letter from the Imperial princess…" Blaise snapped her head up, "...late yesterday confirming she will be leading the Empire's representation… which leads us to our next topic..."
"As everyone here is aware, I made the decision to postpone the Battle of the Eagle and Lion during the Wyvern Moon due to circumstances surrounding the Black Eagle House. Now that Manuela has healed and Blaise returned safely, we have decided to host the makeup battle the week following the ball. We will leave two days after the celebration for Gronder field with the Adrestian representatives as escorts," Rhea explained.
"Manuela," Seteth called.
The Black Eagles professor was frowning. "Why yes, dear?"
"Due to her investment in the outcome of the battle, we have granted Edelgard's request for these arrangements so she may attend. She and Hubert will not, however, be allowed to participate. You may replace them with any other Black Eagles, if you so desire."
Blaise didn't quite know what came over her in that moment, but she snapped her fingers. Every pair of eyes swiveled to her, expressions ranging from curiosity to concern to utterly unreadable.
She opted not to think too much into them.
I want in the battle.
Everyone was still and silent for a moment, Blaise feeling her father tense next to her while she saw Manuela twist around in her chair to stare. Blaise knew Manuela was working through her sudden request when she hadn't even put forth the effort to leave her bed in days.
Seteth was the first to respond. "That... could be one option, however, would you not prefer to rest? Know we have no such expectations beyond you helping prepare the Black Eagle students."
Of course they had no expectations. Hell, they never had any real expectations for her.
But Edelgard did.
Edelgard always did.
And she could see the challenge in lavender eyes as clearly as if Edelgard was standing right before her.
I want in the battle.
"I'm afraid I must agree with Seteth, dear. You should not be putting yourself under any stress," Manuela argued before facing Rhea. "Perhaps you would allow her to remain with Edelgard on behalf of the Church?" she suggested.
Blaise grimaced.
Damn Edelgard.
Damn her for doing this to her. For leaving and somehow still influencing her decisions.
Damn her for lying, for manipulating, for her secrets and distrust.
Damn her for being the one to give her a chance, for sitting with her by a fire in the middle of the night, for liking flowers, and challenging her to be better, and not whispering about her and defending her and not judging.
Damn her for being commanding and captivating and- and radiant.
Just damn all of her.
I want in the battle.
"Referee then?" Jeralt grunted.
This was getting ridiculous. Her nails dug into her palms until they drew blood, but she hardly noticed.
"Let her fight."
It was Balen who spoke for the first time that meeting and silence once again befell the room. How was it he did that? When had he begun to exude such confidence in this setting.
"Kid…" Jeralt began.
And for the first time ever, Blaise heard Balen intentionally interrupt.
There was something in his hand that Balen flipped, red and black catching in the light. "She wants to fight for something." He looked up, their eyes meeting and she was surprised again because she was sure he actually understood. He slid something across the table to her so fast she had to scramble to catch it.
Lifting her hand, she faced the Black Eagle pendant she had lost. It was now adorned with a new chain of silver, but the pendant was the same with no hint of a scratch.
Her eyes burned.
But she smiled and nodded, clenching the pendant in the palm of her hand.
Edelgard and Blaise? The Flame Emperor and Névé?
Their dance had gone on long enough.
Blaise would show her she was both and what that meant. She would challenge Edelgard as she was so wont to do to her.
And they would see. Everyone would see.
The pieces would fall where they fell.
A/N:
I prefer longer chapters because I'm much less likely to change my mind on the direction the story is going, but this is all I have right now. Fingers crossed my planning for this last stretch will hold up and I won't end up deleting and rewriting what I've already posted.
Not too much happens here besides set-up for later but we do get a bit of a spark from Blaise at the end. Edelgard not actually being at the monastery as Blaise expected certainly throws her for a loop and she decides to take matters into her own hands. Finally. We'll see how well she holds onto it once she forces herself out of self-isolation next chapter.
Thanks for reading! I appreciate all of you.