A/N: Welcome back! This chapter got significantly longer than my other chapters so it was kind of a pain to edit. Luckily, I've picked up one editor for grammar stuff, and one beta reader for story stuff. I've also started an outline in a big fat google doc, as well as commissioned something for Chapter 15! I look forward to sharing the finished stuff with you all! :)
Edit: Fanfif decided to delete the dash breaks I put in. Doh. Fixed now.
Her meeting with Jeralt left a lot to be desired. But Byleth was over the moon that she had an actual conversation with her father. Still, his parting words left her with a vaguely ominous feeling. What could he have meant by "the walls have ears," and what did that have to do with her? Did he mean to imply that Lady Rhea didn't want Byleth to ask too many questions about what had happened in the past?
Sothis, too, seemed somewhat hesitant to trust Rhea. She had said something about her words not being sincere, but Rhea… had always been genuine, right? The Archbishop had always done what was best for Fódlan.
Hadn't she?
The more Byleth thought about it, the more she came to realize how little she knew about Lady Rhea, despite having been raised by her. Seteth and Flayn spoke in minute detail about what their lives were like before they came to the monastery, but most of Rhea's stories were wrapped up in tales of her parents. The only things she knew about Rhea with certainty were that she lost her mother at a young age, became the Archbishop at some point, was saved by Jeralt, and then… Byleth was born?
Byleth trudged up the steps to the Archbishop's office, weaving between and dodging the nuns scurrying back and forth with paperwork in their hands. Rhea sat in her office, staring down a pile of paperwork as usual, but—unlike before—Seteth was there to help her. He was prattling off something about "the most effective means to distribute missions and chores," and Rhea looked like she was only half-listening. The Archbishop had a quill in hand and was staring intently down at something before her gaze drifted up to catch Byleth standing in the doorway.
"Ah, sweet child, you've come just as I asked." Rhea smiled softly. Seteth stopped mid-sentence and greeted her with a soft smile of his own, although he seemed taken off-guard that she was even there.
"I did, Lady Rhea. I stopped by to see my mother today too. I… I guess I just wanted to talk to her and show her the uniform." Byleth cleared her throat while striding into Rhea's office and then sat across from her.
"She would be so happy for you, Byleth. Your mother was always in such frail health, so she could never leave the monastery," Rhea commented softly, "So, I'm sure she's ecstatic to hear that you have an opportunity she never had."
"Yes, well, I do hope you will be careful on your assignments, Byleth," Seteth suddenly chided. Byleth could see worry lines etching themselves into his face. "You will have Jeralt with you, but that doesn't mean you should be careless. I will personally see that Jeralt takes the utmost care in making sure you—" There was a brief pause. "—and all the students in your class are safe. In fact, I should have a word with your father on several things, really."
Rhea stifled a soft laugh, and Byleth inhaled nervously. Being on the receiving end of one of Seteth's "talks" was not a fun experience. She had never been on the receiving end of one, but many of the students talked ad nauseam about how they were long, detailed lectures with notes on what they had done wrong.
"Seteth, you tend to be overprotective of Byleth in the oddest ways. She'll be fine. I'm certain of it." The soft grin that had wormed its way onto the Archbishop's face only widened as Rhea watched Seteth cross his arms indignantly. "This experience is meant to help Byleth grow. If you shelter her from that, then there would be no point in having her join as a student in the first place."
"I know, Rhea, but you must be aware that she is still just a child—"
"She's not just a child, Seteth. She's the one I've appointed to be my successor as Archbishop. As I'm sure you're well aware, this is not a position that can be held by someone who doesn't have experience on the battlefield."
"Yes, well, she's also never been outside the walls of the monastery before. Fighting bandits on the battlefield is not the same as training in the barracks. I don't care how many rigorous training sessions Catherine has put her through. Catherine is far too reckless for her own good."
Byleth winced at the mention of one of Catherine's training sessions. She was a good tutor but refused to hold back, even when Byleth had just started taking up the sword. Byleth could still remember the plethora of bruises and the broken rib she had gotten from their very first sparring session. It did help her learn how to dodge quickly, but the memory was still unpleasant.
"Byleth has had more training than most of the students here. She will be able to hold her own just fine," Rhea insisted.
Seteth's strained smile turned into an intense frown. Judging by her tone, Rhea wanted Seteth to put an end to the conversation. When Seteth seemed hesitant to oblige, Byleth used the quiet moment to get a word in, "You… have been on the battlefield before, Lady Rhea? I knew you were proficient in magic, but…"
"Ah." Rhea looked momentarily taken aback, like she had said something she shouldn't have, but after a moment, she nodded. "I have. A very long time ago. Some circumstances necessitated the Archbishop's presence on the battlefield. Although, I haven't left the walls of Garreg Mach in a long time."
The graceful and elegant Archbishop Rhea on the battlefield? Byleth could scarcely believe it, let alone imagine it.
"But, we live in a far different time now. Despite the occasional problem with bandits, Fódlan is now largely peaceful. I hope the experiences you will have in your time at the Officer's Academy will help you maintain that peace." She smiled gently. "You should focus on being a student here, and that means completing your assigned missions to the best of your abilities. The first one shall be the mock battle—"
"A mock battle?" Byleth tilted her head. "Ah, you mean the skill assessment."
"Yes. The mock battle gives your instructor a good chance to assess your individual skills and your skills as a team. No one will be using real weapons, so the risk of injury is minimal. However, Seteth is still determined to worry," Rhea lightly laughed.
Byleth's eyes darted to Seteth, and he was trying and failing to hold back a frown as red stained his cheeks. He didn't enjoy it when Rhea pointed out his worrywart tendencies, but Seteth had been like that for as long as Byleth could remember.
"I am sure everything will be fine for the mock battle. It's everything else afterwards that I am worried about it. I've known Byleth since she was just a baby. Of course I'd worry about her just as much as I worry about Flayn," Seteth grumbled.
"Yes, and if you worried about her the way you do me, we both know that, if you had your way, Byleth would be locked up in this dusty old monastery for the rest of her days! She will be fine, brother!" Flayn's voice suddenly chimed in as the young girl stepped into Rhea's office with a coy smile on her face. "Did you think I would not come to see you on your first day of school? Oh, I am absolutely elated for you, Byleth! You will make a wonderful student!"
Byleth offered Flayn a small nod. She hadn't expected her meeting with Lady Rhea to turn into a complete family get-together. In fact, she was a little disappointed. There were many things Byleth wanted to talk to the Archbishop about, but… it wasn't anything she could say out loud with Seteth and Flayn present. Perhaps it was for the better, though. Byleth had to learn how to navigate things without Rhea's soft reassurances. She wasn't a child anymore, and the Archbishop wasn't her mother.
"So… why did you want to meet with me, Lady Rhea?" Byleth asked. In the midst of all the chit-chat, the reason for this meeting had been lost. Byleth was certain Rhea had simply wanted to reiterate their plans, but instead, Rhea reached under her desk and then placed a sword on top of it.
It was a simple short sword, but the metal's quality seemed far higher than anything in the training barracks. Sunlight glinted off the blade, and Byleth could make out her own reflection within it. A small red ribbon had been tied along the hilt.
"I wanted to get you a gift for your first day. I know how anxious you have been over everything, sweet child. But I want you to know I have complete faith in you. Of course, I am not exactly skilled at picking out gifts, so Seteth and Flayn helped me pick out something that would be fitting."
Byleth gently picked up the blade and watched the sunlight glint off the metal. A sword like this must have cost a lot of money. Byleth... couldn't help but feel slightly moved by it all. Rhea had noticed how anxious she had been and had gone out of her way to get Byleth a gift—one that Seteth and Flayn helped pick out. Despite all the confusion Jeralt's presence had brought to her, she was sure the Church was her family just as it had been her mother's family.
"Thank you," Byleth murmured quietly while she tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. There was some relief in knowing that she always had a family, even if Jeralt ended up leaving the monastery or wanting nothing to do with her. "I'll take good care of it."
It was in that quiet moment that the bell rang. Ah, the meeting had run longer than expected, and she would have to skip breakfast. Unfortunate, but Byleth could deal with it.
"Well, that's all we had. Off you go now, child. I want to hear all about your first day later," Rhea insisted. Byleth nodded before darting out of Rhea's office. It would be bad form to be late on her first day!
Rhea watched Byleth dart out of the room with a spring in the child's step. Once Byleth was out of earshot, Rhea's soft smile morphed into something more akin to a frown. The Archbishop wasn't sure if this was a good idea. The more she let the girl out into the open world, the more questions she would ask. Even now, the girl was becoming much more inquisitive. It wasn't entirely a bad thing, but…
There was even a risk that Jeralt might eventually tell her the truth behind his departure from the monastery. Though, Rhea was sure she had cowed the Bladebreaker into silence. For now. While Jeralt was no doting father like Seteth, he was still a good man at heart and cared about his family. So, she had to keep an eye on the two.
Rhea had wanted to avoid putting Byleth into school, but unfortunately, it was a last resort. Every other method to awaken their mother had resulted in failure. She had put Byleth through rigorous training, given her the best education on the ancient texts she could—and still nothing. Rhea could only surmise that Byleth's sheltered upbringing had kept her from being a proper vessel for Sothis's return. After all, her mother was as much a warrior as she was a scholar, and Byleth couldn't become a proper warrior sheltered within the halls of Garreg Mach. The training hadn't been enough. There was no risk of life or death within these halls.
A sigh escaped her.
"Rhea. You have never elaborated on why you took such an interest in this child. There are plenty of orphans living within Garreg Mach, but you only ever decided to teach one. Why?" Seteth's voice pierced her thoughts while Flayn stared at her intently. As much as it pained her to keep things from Seteth and Flayn... This was something with which she couldn't entrust Seteth.
"All in due time, Seteth. I assure you, I only want the best for that child. And in a way… I suppose I feel responsible for her."
After all, she was the reason Byleth existed—Sitri had been one of her many failed creations. Rhea could only hope that Byleth was not another in a long line of failures.
Seteth frowned once more but asked no more. When Rhea gave such a nonanswer to his questions, her advisor knew better than to pry.
Byleth's meeting with Rhea had resulted in her being slightly late to class—most of the students had already filtered into the classroom and were chattering among themselves. Byleth shuffled into the classroom and took a seat at the front. She had initially wanted to blend into the corner. Still, the young woman remembered her task was to actually get to know people.
"Oh, you don't look like anyone I've seen before~" an unfamiliar voice chirped before taking a seat next to Byleth. "I knew all the young ladies in the Golden Deer house—you must be a last-minute addition. I'm Hilda of House Goneril, and you are…?" Hilda questioned.
"Byleth, I'm—"
"This is that nun I told you about Hilda," Claude's voice chimed in as he took a seat on the other side of Byleth. "The one who thrashed me at the planning session with Edelgard and Dimitri."
"Er…" Byleth wasn't exactly sure what to say. She didn't exactly want to be known for her unforgiving battle tactics.
"What? No way! Claude is almost impossible to beat at tactics"—Hilda shot Claude a look—"because he never takes it seriously!"
"Rich coming from someone who's looking for another poor victim to sucker into doing chores. Here's a warning, Byleth—don't trust Hilda. Her compliments are a double-edged sword." Claude grinned.
Hilda puffed out her cheeks, indignantly. "Whaaat? I would never…!"
Their banter continued back and forth, but Byleth felt like her head was spinning already. It felt like she was an outsider to some type of dynamic she didn't understand. It was quickly becoming overwhelming.
"Anyway, Hilda's scheming to get out of chores aside... You…. don't actually know anyone here, do you? It's written all over your face—you look like a lost kitten," Claude remarked. Byleth frowned. Was it really so obvious? She would have to control her facial expressions a little bit more.
"Er… well… no. I've never been outside Garreg Mach, so…" Byleth was about to explain before Hilda cut her off.
"What? Seriously?" Hilda gaped; this time, it seemed more genuine than the over-exaggerated surprise she'd been trying to convey before. "Your sword skills must be good if they let you in here. I mean, your tactics skills have to be good if you beat Claude."
"Er… I suppose I have some training, yeah," Byleth muttered quietly. She thought it best to not exclaim that her tutor was Thunderbrand Catherine. She didn't want to make it known that the Archbishop had ordered special training for her—she was supposed to keep a low profile and be normal. Well, as normal as one could get despite having the spirit of what may or may not be the Goddess in her head.
"I suppose I should have the honor of introducing you to the students of the Golden Deer this year then." Claude grinned; Byleth nodded, offering him a small smile in turn. At the very least, they were all friendly, for which Byleth was more than grateful.
"Well, we're lucky we're a mishmash of different nobles and commoners this year. No stuffy formalities—well, unless you're Lorenz. But then you just have a thing for stuffy formalities." He pointed to a purple-haired young man standing in the corner talking with a much smaller girl with stark white hair. "And the pipsqueak is Lysithea. Ah, but if you call her a pipsqueak, she'll probably kill you? So don't do that—"
"Unless you're Claude and like to tease people," Hilda chimed in.
Claude shrugged with the same easy smile. "What? It's funny. Uh… those two over there—" Claude pointed to the row across from them. One individual was much smaller than the other, with one having comically large muscles and a shirt that seemed ready to burst at the seams because it was so ill-fitting. "—Raphael and Ignatz. They're both from merchant families. Raphael is a bit slow on the uptake, but he's got a good heart and Ignatz… Hm… Well, you and he might get along—"
Byleth blinked, "Er… Why…?"
"Because you're a nun, and Ignatz has a thing for the Goddess or something. It all flies over my head, but if you mention the Goddess in any way to Ignatz, he'll talk your ear off about how beautiful he thinks she must be."
Byleth… didn't really know how to respond to that. The Sothis in her head was hardly the eloquent and charming Goddess that Ignatz probably thought her to be. Instead, she was…
The nicest way to describe her was: a handful.
"Ah, I suppose Marianne prays to the Goddess a lot too," Claude continued, pointing to a young woman sitting down in the corner with her head cast downward. Byleth saw deep-set dark circles under the young woman's eyes. She seemed ready to flee at any moment. "She's very nice, but people tend to avoid her since she's so gloomy all the time."
Ah, Byleth understood that feeling quite well. Students from previous years always made it a point to avoid Byleth because they thought her quiet and weird. In truth, she just… never knew how to talk to people.
"And you've met Hilda and me. So, I suppose you're the one that has to introduce yourself now—" Claude grinned, but Byleth felt his invitation was far more probing than he was letting on. He was curious about her—Byleth was almost certain that Claude had more questions hidden behind that smile.
Or maybe she was just paranoid.
"Yeah, why did a nun join one of the Houses to begin with? It's a bit strange. If you wanted to train with the Knights, you could have just asked Alois for an apprenticeship? He'd be more than willing if your goal was to become a knight," Hilda remarked, curiosity clearly written all over her face. Ah, the cover story did have a lot of holes in it, didn't it?
However, before Byleth could patch together any sort of response, it was Lorenz who spoke—his smug voice caused Hilda to roll her eyes, "It makes perfect sense actually, if you think about who is supposed to be teaching the Golden Deer this year."
"And that would be…?" Hilda eyed him, and Lorenz's eyes seemed to sparkle over the idea of getting to smugly elaborate on something Hilda didn't know.
"Jeralt Eisner. The Bladebreaker. Apparently, he and his apprentice returned to Garreg Mach, or so the rumor mill says"—Lorenz flipped a lock of hair from his face—"and he's chosen to teach the Golden Deer as a favor to Archbishop Rhea."
Claude eyed Lorenz with a frown. Byleth knew the original instructor had abandoned the three House Leaders after they'd been accosted by bandits. Still, apparently, that wasn't the story the other students had been fed. It was probably for the best. If it was known they'd been attacked by bandits while under the monastery's care, it would have become an international incident. But… Byleth was sure her father didn't agree to become a teacher as a favor to Rhea. Their relationship seemed instead… somewhat strained.
"So it's only natural an aspiring Knight would want to study under the infamously lost captain of the Knights of Seiros," Lorenz exclaimed.
Byleth nodded silently. She was grateful for the impromptu cover story.
"So that's it, huh… Well, I suppose that makes sense." Hilda smiled at Byleth, seemingly satisfied by Lorenz. Byleth only returned the smile with a terse smile of her own. Claude remained silent throughout the exchange, even though Byleth could make out the slightest furrow in his brow.
"Is… something the matter, Claude?" Byleth pressed.
"Huh? Oh!" Claude's slight frown had faded just as quickly as it appeared. "Nah, I just wasn't personally told we were getting a new Professor. It took me by surprise, that's all. Feel kinda outta the loop if Lorenz knows something before I do." He shot Lorenz a mischievous grin. Lorenz's smug smile turned into an offended frown.
Their exchange was lost on Byleth. Something about Claude not being a more attentive future leader of the Leicester Alliance. What Byleth was more surprised by was the fact that Archbishop Rhea hadn't told Claude. That implied that Jeralt's hiring wasn't planned but instead offered on a whim—which wasn't like Rhea. Maybe it was because Jeralt was her father…?
"Hm, you're too willing to see the good in people. This is all sort of suspicious, isn't it? The day you're supposed to go into the school, your father just happens to stop being missing, agrees to be a teacher, and there just HAPPENS to be an opening?"
Sothis… had a point. This was a lot to all be one happy coincidence. Luck was not nearly so charitable. But it was also unreasonable to think that this was all some grand conspiracy too. The most straightforward answer was usually the most likely. In this case, it just seemed that a series of coincidences conspired to make Jeralt stay.
"I think it's strange, though. Given Jeralt's frigid relationship with the Archbishop… Wouldn't it make more sense for him to just leave? You said he left once before. When you were a baby?"
"Yes, he did."
"So, I'm not trying to be mean here, but… Why does your father want to stay and watch over you now? He didn't want to stay when you were a baby?"
"Lady Rhea said it was grief."
"Grief?" Sothis sounded exasperated. "I suppose, but if it had to do with the death of your mother, then why would he abandon the last link he had to her? It just doesn't make sense."
"I mean… does it have to make sense? Grief can warp people in cruel and twisted ways," Byleth told Sothis. She had seen it happen plenty of times before in the funerals the monastery held—the way people just shut down after the death of a loved one. She had never experienced such pain, but…
"Hm… I don't know. Something still doesn't feel right here." Sothis sighed. "Whatever, I'll think on it some more and let you know if I come up with an idea."
"What you should be doing is trying to remember who you are and why you're attached to me! Not… trying to parse out my family issues," Byleth practically hissed back. Still, the slam of a door snapped her out of her conversation with Sothis. Jeralt marched in—and immediately, all the students' eyes were on him.
There was a moment of silence at first as he walked to the front of the classroom and up to the blackboard. Jeralt grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing his name onto the blackboard. Finally, with a somewhat gruff huff, he turned around and pointed to his sloppily written name.
"So you're the new teach, huh?" Claude hummed.
"I, for one, am pleased to make your acquaintance, Professor Eisner," Lorenz sniveled.
"This teach looks like he knows how to fight! Alright, my muscles are screaming already!" Raphael grinned.
"Professor…" Lysithea raised her hand, but before her question could be asked—
"Stop," Jeralt huffed. There was an edge to his voice that Byleth had come to recognize in the few interactions she'd had with her father. It betrayed discomfort, or so she thought. "Don't call me Professor or Teacher or The Bladebreaker or any of that formal title crap."
"Wha... But how are we supposed to address our teacher then?" Lorenz sounded more exasperated by the minute, to which Claude's amused smile grew.
"Jeralt. That's all," Her father responded, crossing his arms, "If you call me Professor or Teacher, I'll make you run a lap around the monastery."
Byleth didn't know what she was expecting when Rhea had hired her father to teach, but somehow she had a different impression of how this would go. He had always seemed so restrained with her that Byleth might have mistaken him for being mild-mannered, but the way he ordered the class around now he…
Seemed unprofessional.
"Alright! So all you're saying to get you to make me run laps for training is just to call you Professor?! I can do that—" Raphael was about to continue with a long string of the word 'Professor,' but Ignatz frantically dove to cover his friend's mouth.
"L... Let's not antagonize our new te… instru… Jeralt, yeah…?" Ignatz mumbled meekly.
"Good, you brats at least seemed to be quick learners. That's good. The quicker you learn, the faster I can whip you into shape."
"Excuse me, Sir Jeralt—" Lorenz was about to pipe up before Jeralt interjected.
"One lap. Sir counts as a formality."
Lorenz was caught off guard. "I'll have you know I am the heir to House Gloucester, I—!"
Jeralt interrupted him again, "And you'll find I don't give a shit."
The entire class, including Byleth, was taken aback by his harsh language. Was this really the same man who couldn't spit out two words to Byleth? Was this the same man who had so gently placed lilacs on her mother's grave?!
"This is my first lesson to you as a class." Jeralt gave them all a hard stare. "Noble? Commoner? None of that matters on the battlefield. Status doesn't matter. What matters is killing your enemy while making sure you and your comrades don't die."
Silence fell over the classroom. Byleth had never had the unpleasant experience of killing someone before. Still, she figured that it would be an inevitable experience. Catherine had said as much.
"I've been tasked with making you brats into capable military officers. Many of you won't go on to fight great wars or fight in mercenary troops, but you will still be expected to learn what it's like to be a soldier. I don't care what prestigious family you come from. I don't care what kind of crest you have. And you'll find many of your opponents, whether they're bandits or hired assassins, don't care either. Tomorrow, you'll have a mock battle to determine where your abilities are—not only individually, but also as a team."
The classroom atmosphere was tense as the class tried to find a way to parse what Jeralt was asking of them. Byleth didn't see it as incredibly difficult—she had been raised outside the strict caste system of Fodlan—but judging by the expression on some of her classmates' faces… That was asking a lot of them. However, one person who seemed mostly unbothered by this whole debacle was Claude. In fact, he appeared… particularly elated by this entire development.
"Just know, if you all make an ass of yourselves tomorrow…" Jeralt paused, "…you will just be made to work that much harder."
The entire class, save for perhaps Raphael, groaned.