Guardian Moon-Faded Smiles

Inigo came back with a short blonde sporting a perpetual grin, and an intimidating blond boy with a huge scar on his face. "Family, the lady is Morgan Plegia and the boy is Brady Themis."

Azura politely waved. "Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you. We met a bit, but we weren't properly acquainted. You can call me Azura. I'm Inigo's wife. These are our children Soleil and Shigure."

Morgan smiled. "Hey! I'm Morgan. I'm King Robin and Queen Emmeryn's kid."

Brady nodded at them. "The name's Brady. My ma's name is Maribelle, a noblewoman of Ylisse, and my pop's Libra, a popular priest."

Everyone talked got to know each other, strengthening their bonds. After a bit, they got back to business. Morgan reported, "We have troops safeguarding our holy sites. We won't let those evil minions win! We're going to fill in everyone later. Since we're so close, you deserve a little sneak peek."

That afternoon, the army had a meeting about their next course of action. Caspar said, "So, our goal is to fix the Dragon's Gate and Outrealm Gate, right?"

Severa corrected, "They're the same gate. Ylisseans call it the Outrealm Gate while Nohrians call it the Dragon's Gate."

Rhea pondered, "Sothis said that these Belerager worshippers are responsible . . . and they seek to bloody our fields once more."

Nowi asked, "How are they able to mess up the gate?"

Annette theorized, "That's the million dollar question."

Cichol sighed. "We're going to have to figure this all out somehow. Finding and eliminating whatever is causing this is our highest priority. We're sending out some knights to scour the continent for information, but it will take some time."

Ferdinand spoke up, "If I may, can I take a quick trip to Adrestia? I want to see how my country is faring."

Rhea brightened. "That's a wonderful idea! It'll help take your minds off of the recent conflict."

All the residents of Adrestia voiced similar attitudes, and so Dorothea found herself in a carriage on the way to her home. Linhardt observed, "Are you feeling anxious?"

Dorothea furrowed her brow. "Why would I be?"

Linhardt replied, "This is the first time you're stepping on your home soil since becoming romantically involved with the emperor. Students saw you together at the ball, and undoubtedly wrote home to their families about that gossip. Everyone will view you differently now."

She dismissed, "Oh please. I can handle a few changes."

He persisted, "These aren't minor adjustments. Even your singing career will be affected. Every aspect of your life will be."

Dorothea stewed in stunned silence until they arrived at Enbarr. The party was greeted by raucous cheers. "The Emperor has returned to us! All hail Emperor Ferdinand!" Ferdinand clasped Dorothea's hand and met with his subjects, amicably chatting until castle staff escorted them inside.

A short older man bustled in. "Your Highness, as one of your chief advisors, I must speak to you about an urgent matter," he eyed Dorothea, "in private." As the two went into another room, the advisor's panicked voice penetrated the walls. "There has been troubling talk! Nobles are whispering that you are dating that singer!"

Ferdinand sharply cut in, "As a matter of fact, I am. Her name is Dorothea Arnault."

The nasally voice protested, "That will not do! You must marry a noblewoman!"

"As a matter of fact, she is one, unjustly removed from her house at her birth because she did not bear a crest."

"Truly? How . . . surprising. Still, the relationship is inappropriate. The emperor cannot wed a singer-a . . . a paltry performer!"

"Dorothea is an incredible woman. I will marry whomever I please."

"But sire, you do not understand. Do you know what this woman did? She . . . she's unclean!"

"Excuse me?!"

"It's well known that she was an escort to a nobleman, his date, in exchange for financial assistance. That behavior is unbecoming of a future empress. Please, Your Highness, there are so many eligible ladies of good standing! If your love for the Mystical Songstress came to be because of your time in the war, there are others you could be with. Consider Bernadetta von Varley or Constance von Nuvelle."

"The problem has to do with disgusting nobles who exploit desperate people. My heart belongs to Dorothea. Constance and Bernadetta are my friends, and friends they shall remain."

The advisor, exasperated, left the room and huffed in the corner. Ferdinand emerged as shortly after. "I'm sorry about that. I'll be back as soon as I check in on things here." Ferdinand hastened.

The advisor turned on Dorothea once his lord was out of earshot. "If you know what's good for His Highness, you'd stay away from him. As empress, you would bring shame upon all Adrestia. If he knew what you did, he'd never look at you again. Go back to your drunken performances. You aren't welcome here. If I must take matters into my own hands, I will."

Dorothea flashed a fake smile. "Why, that is the kindest thing someone like you ever said to me! I'll treasure the words forever."

The advisor growled and left. Eventually, Dorothea got bored of waiting for Ferdinand and went into the plaza where Bernadetta was. "Hey Bernie. How're you doing?"

Bernadetta shrugged. "I checked on my family. They were fine." Dorothea filled her in on the angry advisor. "He said what?! Was his voice nasally? He might've been one of Father's friends. Always so obsessed with the 'proper' thing that they forget to see the humanity in people."

Constance made her way over to them. "If I can interrupt your important conversation, may I join you? I know I have no right to stand next to such distinguished women, but I fear that my duties are already complete and I have no else to converse with."

Bernadetta nodded. "I know you're in the sunlight so you're like this, but you're amazing, Constance! You restored your noble house so quickly with your magical prowess!"

Constance bowed. "I cannot thank you enough for the most gracious praise, Lady Bernadetta. House Varley should not have to trifle with such a meager upstart such as myself."

As the two exchanged encouragement and self-deprecation, Dorothea's gaze went back to the looming castle, where the cold words rang in her ears.

She . . . she's unclean!

If he knew what you did, he'd never look at you again.

You aren't welcome here.