Chapter 9

Day 15 of the Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1179

"And that," Claude explained, "is my account for why Duke Riegan has chosen to name me his heir. I hope that clears things up for everyone."

Claude von Riegan sat before the five lords of the Alliance's Roundtable as he made his case for why his eventual succession to his grandfather's title should be accepted. Count Daphnel and Count Ordelia appeared to be taking Duke Riegan's decision seriously. Count Gloucester and Duke Goneril were less satisfied with Claude's background.

"Actually, I sense no clarity at all," said Count Gloucester as he leaned forward in his chair somewhat menacingly. "You claim to be from a junior branch of House Riegan. Do you have any documented evidence of your lineage? Which duke was your most recent common ancestor with the senior family?"

Claude winced. "I… don't have any documentation, no. I do know the split predates the Crescent Moon War. I have always been told it was around Imperial Year 800, but there is nothing that can confirm that, as far as I know."

"Many of our archives were destroyed in the Crescent Moon War during the sacking of Derdriu," justified Duke Riegan.

"That is a fair argument," agreed Count Ordelia. He was a feeble man who looked older than his years. "I would also have difficulty tracing my family's lineage that far. Many of our records were lost during the Hrym Rebellion."

Everyone in the room fell silent at the mention of the Hrym Rebellion, during which House Hrym attempted to secede from the Adrestian Empire to the Leicester Alliance. No one quite knew what horrors the Empire had inflicted in Ordelia territory after the count offered assistance to the ill-fated Hrym family, and no one really wanted to learn. The rest of the Alliance houses had cowered from provoking the Adrestians again rather than intervene on Ordelia's behalf. It was a humiliation that no one wished to be reminded of.

"Whatever the case," Duke Goneril began as he changed the subject, "the blood relation is so weak that you wish to be legitimized not only as Duke Riegan's heir, but also as an adoptive grandson. I should point out that primogeniture through adoption is a quite aberrant practice. We risk setting a bad precedent to allow it for such a prominent house."

"How so?" Duke Riegan countered. "It was permitted for Margrave Edmund not even four years ago."

Count Gloucester interlocked his fingers disapprovingly. "If I may speak my mind, I believe it best that we request Duke Riegan to remain silent as we question the nominated heir. Claude must be able to answer for himself without someone else to cover his missteps."

Judith von Daphnel crossed her legs and suddenly leaned forward after having spent some time observing the proceedings silently. "Oh, enough of this tough guy act, Gloucester."

'I beg your pa-."

"It's in the interest of the entire Alliance that the ascension of a new Duke Riegan is peaceful," she persisted. "The kid has the Crest of Riegan, so he clearly has some Riegan blood. Put bluntly, who cares about the rest of the details? It's either him or mayhem. We wouldn't be in this position if Godfrey hadn't died, but we have to live with what fate gave us. Assuming fate is responsible for this mess, that is."

Count Gloucester was too flustered to respond. In his stead, Duke Goneril inquired, "If Claude is lying or withholding information, wouldn't you find that concerning? Especially if he might be our leader one day?" Count Gloucester nodded vigorously in agreement.

Judith pointed towards Claude. "What? Do you mean to tell me that you are scared of this boy?"

Realizing that his best move at this point was to further Judith's case, Claude allowed his mouth to stand agape as if he wished to defend himself but couldn't find the words. The pathetic display enhanced Judith's message.

Duke Goneril smiled in spite of himself. "… Certainly not." After a long pause, he finally said, "Very well. I have no objections to Claude's appointment."

"Seconded," Count Ordelia added.

Count Gloucester sighed as he set his quill down. "So be it. But I would like to remind everyone here that the title of the Alliance's leader is not hereditary."

"Duly noted," Judith acknowledged. "There's no question that Claude is not the only one qualified for the position. Holst Goneril has certainly proven himself capable. I'm sure there are others we need to keep eyes on as well."

Duke Goneril was quite pleased to hear his son's name mentioned, while Count Gloucester was agitated by the snub towards his family, just as Judith presumably desired.

After the decision was formally documented, Claude was escorted out of the chamber as the Roundtable proceeded to other topics. He stepped out onto a nearby balcony for some fresh air. He had so much he wanted to achieve, and he had nearly stumbled at the very first step on that path.

At least it was over. With his recent triumph, the city below him would now be his official home- Derdriu. The Roundtable could technically be held anywhere in the Alliance, but the palace in Derdriu was the most common host.

Claude was caught by surprise when Judith suddenly joined him at the balustrade.

"Don't they still need you in there?" he asked.

"Not particularly. They're going over another land dispute between Count Gloucester and Lord Acheron. Maybe I'd care if it didn't come back up every year. I told them I needed to find a privy, but really I just wanted to check in on you. I was a little worried you might have passed out as soon as you closed the door behind you. You looked like you were holding your breath all the way through that meeting."

Claude smiled and then asked softly, "Back in there… why did you help me?"

"Because I felt like it. There's a gleam in your eyes. You have the look of someone who has hopes to do great things. I guess I'm curious as to what they are."

"Count Gloucester has ambitions, too, but I didn't see you buddying up to him."

Judith frowned. "Ambitions, sure, but of a dull, predictable sort. If there's a gleam of the eyes associated with it, I've become so bored of it that I don't even recognize it anymore. With you… it's something different."

"Regardless, you really saved me back there. I owe you a thanks."

"Well, don't get too reliant on me, boy. I may be retiring soon."

Claude had continued to watch over Derdriu for much of the conversation, but his attention snapped back to Judith after that comment. "What do you mean?"

"House Daphnel has been on decline for years. I'm on the Roundtable because of my name still carries weight, but it's past time to pass my seat off to more appropriate hands. Margrave Edmund has undoubtedly earned it. Their house has provided much of the funding for our enterprises. It's time they get a greater say."

"More appropriate hands? You just singlehandedly steered that conference. Not only should you not retire- maybe you should be our leader outright."

Judith chortled heartily. "You're not Duke Riegan yet, boy. You might want to be careful who you say that to." After getting a grasp on her laughter, she continued, "But don't worry. Even if I'm not on the Roundtable proper, I might stick my head in time to time. I still have to make sure my territory receives some representation, after all."

Claude finally found his self-assured grin that had evaded him ever since the start of his interrogation. "In that case, I look forward to working with you again, Hero of Daphnel."

Reckoning of the Master Tactician- Day 15 of the Harpstring Moon, 1186 (Fódlan Calendar)

Khalid mentally prepared himself as their party left the tagine shop and traversed across Astane. Thinking of Sardar Soraya always reminded him of Judith and vice versa. Both were influential women that had acted as rewarding allies and, in their own ways, had a habit of teasing the young prince. He pictured Judith's final expression of disappointment ahead of time lest he risk faltering in the presence of the sardar.

As a member of the royal family, Khalid had the opportunity to see many of Almyra's most impressive destinations. If based on its exterior alone, the palace at Astane would not count among them. His opinion was supported by Dimitri, who made little reaction as they approached. An inexperienced child might be amazed by the towers and battlements, but the design was nothing out of the ordinary for a man from Faerghus.

The reason for its prosaic appearance was quite evident- it was built to be defended, not to be flaunted. Shomal was historically one of Almyra's weaker regions, and the armies it had assembled over the years rarely overwhelmed their enemies. Thus, the elites of Shomal had turned to self-preservation in the absence of force. The city itself was fortified, of course, but the palace served as a citadel for those who wished to make a final stand should the city fall. In fact, it was only in recent years that it started being referred to a palace instead of a citadel.

Like many other buildings in Astane, the palace's shell was made of adobe. It sat on the summit of the largest hill in the city and had a superb overlook towards the ocean. Most of the hill's rim was rendered impenetrable due to its steep rocky slope, though the side facing the sea was significantly smoother. The city had built right up to the walls on this side, causing the fortifications to blend in to the surroundings when approaching from the harbor.

Upon their arrival, Khalid and Dimitri briefly waited outside a gatehouse on the inland side while Farjad and Khabash conversed with the guards. They were then permitted inside the structure and led up a set of stairs to a curtain wall that winded up a ridge to the summit. It was the only way into the palace without crawling up the sharp grade and somehow making it over the high walls. As they walked up the allure, they were given their final view of the setting sun before entering the main body of the palace.

In defiance of its banal exterior, the interior of the palace was quite luxurious, even more so than when Khalid last visited. They first passed through intricately sculpted arched halls of stone and plaster. The walls further in were covered by colorful tiles designed with various floral and geometric patterns. Rather than arched stone ceilings, the rooms increasingly incorporated flat wooden ceilings plated with gold. Dimitri was clearly mesmerized by all of this, but it was only a taste of their final destination- the throne room.

They would not immediately head for the throne room, however. Farjad and Khabash led them into a corridor that then took them to a different wing of the palace. They were then led into the room that would act as their sleeping quarters for the night. Given that it was not consistently inhabited, it was one of the smaller rooms of the palace. Even so, it was no less grand. The ceiling was high, and the divans they would use to sleep were situated directly under wide windows, with additional upper windows installed made of brilliantly-colored glass. The room was situated at just the right elevation to peek over the palace's outer walls.

"Sardar Soraya does not expect you to be dressed ostentatiously, but she suspected that you might be in need of a fresh set of clothes… for everyone's sake. You are welcome to keep them," Farjad said as he waved to attire resting on the divans. Though a generous offer, the clothing itself was not particularly expensive- gray, cotton robes with leather slippers.

Their guides waited outside while they changed. Dimitri's appearance had been stark for so long that it was almost comical to see him dressed so comfortably. Khalid might have laughed were it not for an ensuing debate about what to do with their weapons. The Almyran prince insisted that it would be inappropriate to bring them into Soraya's presence if was allowed at all, but it took some convincing for Dimitri to part with his, even if it was only for a few hours. Once he was finally swayed, Khalid quickly told Farjad and Khabash that they were ready before Dimitri could change his mind, and the group was once again on its way.

Bursting into the throne room was nearly blinding after having spent so long in dark corridors, despite the fact that the light outside was already dimming. Large windows lined the side walls that captured what was left of the light, and several mirrors on the back wall enhanced the effect. The rest of space bore mosaic patterns in all sorts of white, blue, red, and gold. This was all topped off with an ornate dome.

While Dimitri was free to gawk at the sight, Khalid kept his concentration on the woman seated on a sofa at the head of the room. Guards silently stood watch along the perimeter of the room on both their floor and an above mezzanine.

Khalid and Dimitri strode into the room while Khabash and Farjad halted at the door. Khalid bowed reverently after reaching the center of the space, which Dimitri quickly replicated.

"Sardar Soraya… Prince Khalid, again at your service," Khalid announced. "The man beside me is my retainer Dimitri. It is an honor to be welcomed again in your halls."

The sardar put a finger on her chin as she leaned forward. "Is it? I am glad for your presence, but I'm not as certain you feel the same. I do not yet know the details of your return, but I suspect they are not the result of happy circumstances."

Soraya was in her later thirties, and while she was reasonably attractive, more impressive was the fact that she seemed to have hardly aged over the last six years. She did not speak loudly or stand tall, but she still had a way of commanding a room. Perhaps it was her utter equanimity. Almost never during a conversation did she come across as surprised or alarmed.

"You are correct," Khalid admitted. "My time as leader of the Leicester Alliance was cut short by defeat in battle. Even so, returning to Astane is a comfort for this weary soul, so I was earnest when saying it is an honor."

"Do you mean to say that the Alliance is no more? The legacy of Queen Tiana's family wiped away forever?"

"Not quite. There was little left of my army, but the land itself remains intact. Regardless of who wins the war in Fódlan, though, my title will have lost most of its value. I left the situation in the hands of Nader the Undefeated, who was temporarily serving as my retainer."

"Of course," Soraya said as her eyes narrowed slightly. "Nader came through Astane just a few months ago on his way to Derdriu. I had to keep news of his presence suppressed, as he's not universally beloved in these parts. After all, he personally slew my father in battle. Earned himself quite the moniker for it."

The room turned deathly silent for a moment or two. Then the sardar shrugged. "That being said, my father was an ass, so I can't blame him. Shomal has changed much since then. I bear Nader no ill will."

Khalid remained quiet after deciding there was no advantage in either agreeing or disagreeing. Soraya leaned against the arm of her sofa after evaluating his choice. "Well, I assume you aren't 'honored' enough to desire taking up permanent residence in this palace. You will soon request for Shomal's assistance in conveying you back to the Dunya, yes?"

Khalid nodded humbly. "If it is not too much of an inconvenience. I will ensure that you are compensated for any expenses."

"I was willing to fulfill the task for free out of respect for a royal prince, but if you're offering payment, I won't turn it down." Soraya drummed her fingers on a cushion. "I am willing to provide you with five wyverns- one for yourself, one for your retainer, and three for your escorts. Since you are already familiar with Khabash and Farjad, I will send them with you. Khabash's sister Satiah is one of our best riders, so she will serve as your final guard. You may leave as soon as tomorrow."

Soraya briefly glanced at Farjad and Khabash, who both bowed in acquiescence. She continued, "I'll have the detachment negotiate with the king upon your arrival. Yes, that throws away all of my bargaining power, but I trust him for a fair deal. I'll send a single messenger ahead tonight so that your family will have fair warning of your approach. Does this plan sound acceptable?"

"It is more than acceptable," Khalid agreed. "If I may make one amendment, however… please ensure that the message delivered solely to the king and queen."

The sardar smiled. "Very well." She then stood suddenly and motioned her head towards a door behind her. "Come, both of you. I was not informed if you were hungry, but we have prepared food all the same. I hope you don't plan on letting it go to waste."

Khalid was glad to have gone several days without a full proper meal. Otherwise, the tagine from earlier may have done him in. "We will of course accept your offer. Thank you."

Before exiting through the door, Soraya said a few words to a nearby sentry who then scurried off. He was likely either going to serve as the messenger departing that night or was on his way to notify whoever it was supposed to be. Once finished, she waved to Khalid and Dimitri to follow.

"What is a 'month'?" Dimitri asked Khalid quietly while they walked as if embarrassed if someone else heard the question.

"It's just the word we use to refer to each lunar cycle," Khalid explained. "It's synonymous with a 'moon' in Fódlan. Don't bother asking why a different word is used, because I don't know. It didn't seem like something worth looking into."

The two walked in silence until Soraya led them outside into a garden. It had grown too dark to identify the plants, but the fragrance of the flowers remained pleasant. They were then ushered into a single-room pavilion lit dimly by candles. A divan lined the room under open windows, and dishes of food that appeared to have recently arrived sat on a low table in the center of the room. A smiling girl aged fifteen was already lounging on the divan upon their arrival.

Soraya announced, "I know you do not need introductions, Khalid, but for the sake of your retainer, this is my daughter Lydia. My husband died during the Dékhomai campaign, so she is the only family I have left."

Lydia put a hand on her heart and said a short blessing for Dimitri in a perfect merge of her parents' customs. Unsure what to do, Dimitri made an awkward bow. The girl laughed in response. "I quite like your new retainer!" she exclaimed.

As they sat down, Khalid observed plainly, "This isn't the dining hall."

Soraya shook her head. "No, it isn't. Your father's reforms have continued to progress, especially here in Shomal, but to speak so intimately with both men and women present like this? Well, it's not worth making a public scene over. I've already caused enough of a stir just by being a woman in this position. Also, as he is a guest to our land, I wanted to treat your retainer to this occasion. That would not normally be protocol."

"She didn't even want me to attend at first!" Lydia revealed without invitation. "But I insisted that I not miss the opportunity to see Khalid again."

The sardar sighed. "I only allowed it by making her promise not to take any more archery lessons from you. Letting you hand her a bow for the first time is one of my deepest regrets. You wouldn't believe how much grief she's caused with it."

Khalid managed to withhold a smirk. Lydia made no effort to hide hers.

"Alright, let's eat before you can corrupt my daughter any further," Soraya said with a hint of a grin as she waved her guests towards the food.

The sardar was set on ensuring that all categories of Shomal's cuisine were on display- it would be one of her guests' few meals in Astane before leaving, after all. All sorts of meats, soups, and breads were available.

"Do you need help deciding which ones to pick?" Lydia asked Dimitri upon watching him scan the ensemble.

"I would be most grateful," he said. "Perhaps you could start me with the healthier choices?"

Lydia naturally pointed him towards all of the wrong answers for a giggle. Deciding that a single detrimental meal wouldn't do much harm to his retainer, Khalid played along by not correcting her.

Soraya decided it was time to talk of more important subjects once people began to eat. She put a finger on her temple, which somehow collected everyone's attention. "If you don't mind my saying, Prince Khalid… I was uncertain how well you would fare in Fódlan. When you first departed, you seemed to be under the impression that the land beyond would offer you respite from your troubles here. It was not my place to correct you, but I wasn't so certain."

Khalid nodded. "I was naïve. The way some people treated me back at the Dunya… it all seemed so unjustified, so unearned, that I was unable to accept that their prejudices were commonplace. It quickly became clear, though, that the people of Fódlan were just as distrusting of what lied beyond the Throat as the Almyrans were. I was obviously spared the worst of it since no one knew of my heritage, but it was frustrating to hear my homeland talked about in that way. And while I knew my objectives came with risks, I didn't expect to find myself just trying to survive someone else's warpath. I was blind to the possibility that others in Fódlan had their own bold ideas of what the future should look like."

"Well, sometimes lessons have to be learned the hard way. The important thing is that you came out alive. But for how long, I wonder? You left with the promise of conquering Fódlan. Without that in hand… what answer will you give the people for why you are worthy of being the next king? Who will be swayed to your side?"

Dimitri stopped chewing midbite. Khalid could already feel his retainer's gaze boring into him before even turning to confirm it visually. He looked to Dimitri meaningfully as an indication that he could explain himself when the time was appropriate. Dimitri understood Khalid's intention, and though he remained sullen, no outburst occurred.

With that situation stabilized, Khalid recollected himself to actually answer the question. "The future of Fódlan remains in flux, and I still think some of my goals will be met. But yes, my record at the moment won't be swaying many to my side. It could be argued, though, that this fact might be a boon to my safety. It means the other contenders for the throne have a better chance of rising above the crowd without having to harm me, which could potentially embroil them in an unnecessary scandal."

"Maybe so. But that's still an admission that your odds at taking the throne have taken a sharp turn for the worse."

Khalid smiled grimly. "I didn't realize you were so invested in my prospects."

"It's not quite that," Soraya said as she scooped out some more food for herself. "It's just that I dislike browbeaters. I don't know much about James, but it appears that your brother Abbas has seniority to him. What I've seen of Abbas hasn't impressed me. As for your uncle, his constant war games on the Throat have prevented any prospect I have at opening official trade with the Alliance. It's always been a sad way for him to try making himself feel important, and it's only getting more embarrassing as the years go on. The less I see of him, the better. And that, of course, leaves you."

"Well, I'll do what I can to reassert myself. I always keep a few surprises in my quiver, after all."

"Hmm. We'll see about that," the sardar mused, unimpressed by Khalid's ability to speak without saying anything of actual import. "If I had to guess, you plan to lay low for now until the opportunity presents itself. Hopefully, the new regime in Fódlan will push for diplomacy with us vigorously enough to bypass your uncle's nonsense. You should be in a good place to mediate, which could boost your standing."

Khalid's silence confirmed that she was not too far from the mark. In truth, he had no other arrows in his quiver. He prided himself on his ability to adapt to the situation, but didn't help him sound any more prepared.

"Your retainer is from Fódlan," Soraya noted as she glanced towards Dimitri. "What do you think? Is the new Fódlan going to be a bit more open and forgiving of Almyra?"

Upset as he was with Khalid, Dimitri provided an answer. "That is dependent on the victor. One army is led by a woman of honor. Her opponent is nothing more than a beast with a human face."

Soraya raised an eyebrow as her head swiveled to Khalid, which was probably her highest expression of astonishment. Her eyes begged to ask, "Who is this man, and how did he end up in your service?" All Khalid could do was shrug.

Since Dimitri had no more distressing observations to share, the conversation returned to more casual topics. The former prince of Faerghus did not look at Khalid again for the rest of the meal. His jaw seemed to be set a few degrees too tightly as he grimaced away his excess anger. Dimitri probably would have cracked before the event was finished were it not for Lydia keeping him occupied with constant questions and her characteristic teasing. Soraya's daughter either wasn't listening to Dimitri's comment about Edelgard or was somehow unphased by it. If the gods existed, they must have smiled on Khalid that night, because he might not have survived the meal without Lydia's help.

Once the last of the food was cleaned up, Khalid and Dimitri said their goodbyes to the sardar and her daughter before servants were summoned to escort them back to their quarters. Farjad would wake them early the next morning once preparations were complete.

The servants seemed blissfully unaware of how tense the mood was between Khalid and Dimitri as they walked. Khalid spent the entire time analyzing all possible outcomes for what would happen after they reached the room. He survived in the majority of the simulations, but most of them were still highly unpleasant. Khalid also found himself questioning his decision to bring Dimitri with him to begin with. What was he thinking, dragging along someone mentally unstable?

Khalid found himself hovering by the door once they arrived, ready to make an escape if needed. Dimitri stormed all the way to the windows where he began to pace back and forth. His whole body trembled as he walked, seemingly on the verge of reaching for Areadbhar and rushing towards the nearest object to destroy.

"Conquer Fódlan…" he muttered to himself. He then said louder, "Tell me, Claude. If the Flame Emperor had not appeared, what would have been your title? 'The Crescent Moon Leader'? No, too obvious and lacking in taste. 'The Master Tactician' would not have been a bad choice..."

"Before we continue any further, let's be clear right from the start. I did not plan to conquer Fódlan."

"Then what was your plan? Why would you make such a promise if you never intended to keep it?"

"For my answer to make sense, you have to understand my standing. In Almyra, the monarch is not automatically succeeded by his eldest child. After the Sabaeans had several firstborn heirs who turned out to be weak rulers, they instituted a process by which the king or queen would personally choose their heir. It was meant to ensure that the strongest, most capable candidate rises to the throne. Initially this just resulted in the children warring with each other until only one was left standing, so a further rule was made where the king or queen's endorsement would be set before the rulers of Elam, Shomal, and Meteora. If at least two of these three rulers rejected the choice, the monarch would be forced to make a new nomination. This discouraged the contenders from sullying their hands with too much blood. The Meteorans disposed of this right during their heydays in favor of absolute primogeniture, but my family reestablished it, with Saba obviously taking the position previously held by Elam."

"Get to the point," Dimitri growled.

"I have two brother and an uncle who would love to be king. My status as the sole legitimate child gives me an advantage, and everyone knows that my father wishes to nominate me. However, my mother's heritage has a serious risk of vitiating my chances of being accepted. So, to prove my worth, I announced that I would undertake a daunting mission- conquer Fódlan and use my position to normalize relations with Almyra. Now, it is true that I hoped to unify Fódlan and open up the Throat. However, unlike Edelgard, I did not actually plan to do so through war. Advertising it to the Almyrans as 'peacefully reworking the political system of Fódlan through diplomatic channels' just wasn't going to have quite the punch, hence why you hear the word 'conquer' being thrown about."

Though he remained unconvinced, Dimitri's expression assuaged some. He sank into a spot on a windowsill. "How could you have unified Fódlan without war? Many Adrestian nobles wanted unification, but only on their terms. Faerghus would not have complied. Nothing about this sounds realistic."

"I would have prevented war by stacking so many weapons in my arsenal that no one would dare interfere with my reforms. With enough leverage, you can bend the will of your enemies as you need without drawing blades."

"Your answer is deliberately vague and unconvincing. Try harder."

"My answer was honest, but if you require specifics… I'll do what I can to give an illustration of how it might have gone."

Khalid surrendered his perch at the door and settled into a spot on the divan near to Dimitri before beginning his story.

"I attended the Officer's Academy for two purposes. One, to learn all about the church's history and the future leaders of Fódlan that I could. Identify their weaknesses, as well as the best way to negotiate with them. If the church was covering something up, I wanted to know exactly what it was. Secondly, I aimed to gather as many allies as I could, especially those that could bring a Hero's Relic with them.

"Now we have to dig into the hypotheticals. Assuming Edelgard never declared war, I eventually succeed my grandfather as leader of the Alliance without much drama. Using my position, I then reopen negotiations with Almyra. From the perspective of the Almyrans, they would be negotiating with me- an infiltrator that worked his way up the enemy's social ladder. They would see any progress as their victory. As for the Alliance, they would just be happy to see the raids against Fódlan's Locket put to a stop. So, with my father's assistance, the border is quickly opened. Knowledge and culture pour from one side to the other like water from a broken dam."

Dimitri interrupted, "You implied the order of events was to first conquer Fódlan and then open up relations with Almyra. This story has it the other way."

"True. I figured that since I would still be at the head of a government and undertaking what I set to accomplish, no one in Almyra would really care about the order. Why should they? Anyways, the Alliance would quickly face an influx of wealth and opportunity denied to both the Empire and Kingdom. Even if they followed suit and normalized relations with Almyra, the Alliance would still reap the most immediate benefits due to our proximity and well-developed mercantile system. It wouldn't be long before Adrestia and Faerghus came knocking my door looking for a piece of the pie.

"This would end in one of two ways. First, I send out feelers about establishing a new institution that would regulate commerce across all of Fódlan and handle foreign relations. This would make it far easier to spread wealth and open new markets, but it would also be the first step towards a unified government. If that didn't go anywhere, I instead offer benefits to individual lands and families willing to line up under my sphere of influence and work my way piecemeal.

"I honestly think a lot of this would happen naturally without my meddling too much. The balance of power within Fódlan works at the moment, but if we were suddenly thrust out onto the world's stage, the Empire, Kingdom, and Alliance would suddenly look rather small in comparison. We share a common language, religion, and, to a certain degree, history. Fódlan would almost certainly see steps towards assimilation in the face of such upheaval."

Dimitri shook his head. "I do not know if a new organization would be necessary to deal with the issues you raise. The Church of Seiros already had the status and resources to handle both foreign and internal relations."

"Yes, but I would not have allowed events to play out that way. Rhea could not be trusted with such a task. There's nothing in the tenets of Seiros to suggest that outsiders should be spurned, but the church has failed to be a positive influence in dealing with its neighbors. And given how bad it's handled some of Fódlan's issues, I want to see the church's power diminished, not increased."

"Fódlan has many issues, but what should the church have done differently?" Dimitri asked as he looked Khalid directly in the eye for the first time in hours.

"It could have started with not enabling the nobility's poor behavior. Whenever the commoners or burghers protest the actions of their lords, the noble families can just point to the validation they have from the Church or the evidence of the goddess's blessing provided by a Crest."

"Many nobles abused their power in the name of Crests," Dimitri conceded. "Everyone knows that. But the Church of Seiros was critical of this from the start. I'm quite familiar with the church's doctrines, Khalid. Crests were granted to the Heroes so they had the power to fight back evil… that is all. Bearing a Crest was never intended as an acknowledge from the goddess that the bearer had a divine right to rule. It is said that humanity's abuse of their Crests caused the goddess to depart from this world to begin with. No, the church is not to blame for the state of Fódlan. It is fundamental human avarice."

Khalid frowned. "Regardless of what some dusty tome says that most commoners can't even read, many nobles really did treat their Crests as a sign of the goddess's approval, and I've heard more than one member of the clergy imply the same."

"It's not just from a tome. Ingrid once told me of a conversation she had with Seteth where he was very clear that Crests were nothing more than inherited power with no saying on the value of the bearer. Those words came from the chief advisor of the archbishop herself. Just because a few lower members made irresponsible statements is no justification for war."

"The fact that Seteth even had to tell her that demonstrates the problem," Khalid said with a weary smile. "The higher offices had a greater responsibility than personally not making careless statements. They had the duty to actively correct their adherents. The church did not rule Fódlan directly, obviously, but it still had the best position to wield its power for good. And what exactly did the Church of Seiros do to solve the issues? It almost always turned a blind eye or actively submitted to the nobles' demands when pressured. They even let the aristocracy push them around on matters as simple as segregating the dormitories by status in their own monastery."

Dimitri challenged, "Perhaps the church could have done more, but it would have come at the risk of war. You make the solutions sound simple with no attention to the delicate task of keeping the peace in Fódlan."

"At some point, one has to ask the question if the peace is worth it. Progress must come, one way or another."

Dimitri's expression began to darken again. "So you were prepared to go to war over it?"

"As I've said, I would begin with leverage. If that didn't work, I would have tried to minimize the casualties. For example, if Rhea tried interfering with my right to open Fódlan's Throat and refused to back off despite any threats I threw at her, I would start with having the archbishop discreetly assassinated in hopes that whoever took her place would be more agreeable. If not, I would leave it to them to start the war."

"Assassinate the archbishop?" Dimitri gasped.

Khalid did not flinch. "You asked for honesty. I gave it to you. It's not that I wanted to kill her, but if she stood in the way of my goals, I had no intention of backing down."

Dimitri was visibly stunned by the sudden severity of Khalid's demeanor. All he could mutter was, "You hate Archbishop Rhea that much?"

"It's not a matter of hate. I'm not even going to say Rhea meant to harm Fódlan. She was probably doing what she thought was best. But it doesn't change the results. To use an analogy, I would liken Rhea to a child watching a pot filled with water over a flame. Over time, the boil burgeons out of control and risks causing a mishap. Instead of actually doing something to solve the problem, like removing the pot or quenching the flame, the child panics. She tries to contain the water by holding the lid down tightly, shouting or pleading for the boil to stop, and crying to her mother to come and save her. Of course, her grip finally fails and the scalding water erupts everywhere."

Khalid crossed his arms. "Fódlan finally boiled over under Rhea's watch. There was no mother or anyone else above her to bail her out. If she survives this war, it's important that she isn't left in charge of the pot unattended again."

Dimitri persisted, "I still don't see how any of your plans could have come to fruition without bloodshed. The people would be trampled underfoot, just as they have under the emperor."

"Well, I tried warning you that my plans were only a sketch. I would have adapted each action as needed to limit collateral damage. In our current timeline, that worked by me making the most of a war that Edelgard already started. With Faerghus already a mess, unifying Fódlan would have been easier than ever if the Alliance was able to topple the Empire. Obviously, it didn't play out that way."

Khalid leaned back as he delved deeper into his contemplations. "There are details of her situation I don't understand, but Edelgard failed the optics test by declaring a war before properly gauging if anyone else might actually cooperate with her on some of her goals. I get not readily trusting others- I didn't trust her, either, but my alternative wasn't to initiate something so bloody. If Edelgard was really so set on eliminating Rhea, she should have laid out her rationale, invaded the monastery, and seized Rhea and any knights who resisted. Then just install a puppet archbishop with more amenable doctrines and head home. Frankly, though I'm not normally a supporter of execution, removing Rhea altogether would have made it clear that there was no restoring the previous order and nullified any immediate benefit in mounting a counteroffensive. If the Alliance and Kingdom were outraged by this, let them declare the war. Forget the irredentist rhetoric that made diplomacy on even terms all but impossible."

The Master Tactician shrugged helplessly. "Alright… that discourse was a bit dense, I'll admit. To summarize, I would have started with my reforms and only fought if someone else acted as the aggressor. If a war happened, I would have the moral high ground. Do you see the difference between me and Edelgard?"

Dimitri nodded. "Yes. The distinction between you and the emperor is your ability to gild over your selfish goals better than her."

Khalid sighed as his head sank. "I understand being frustrated, I do. But you don't actually believe she and I are the same, right? Edelgard tried to kill you at Gronder Field. She killed all of your friends. I personally dragged you off the field to keep you alive. Just based on that alone, I don't see how she and I could be reasonably compared."

Dimitri looked away in silent concession of the point.

Almyra's prince continued, "I may be distrusting on an individual level, but I'm actually optimistic about humanity as a whole… maybe a little too much at times. I guess you and I are opposites in that regard. But I really believe that if people could have seen what the world beyond had to offer- beyond Fódlan, beyond the church, beyond the goddess- that they would see the bigger picture without needing a war to open their eyes. People can change. I saw it with my classmates. For example, Lorenz and I butted heads relentlessly at first, but even we were starting to understand each other before the year was up. You can probably relate. Many at the monastery were hostile towards the people of Duscur, but I know those who truly got to know Dedue understood that he was no monster and that the same could likely be said for the rest of his people. I want to see a world where everyone is able to experience that transformation."

Dimitri considered this point for a moment. Just when Khalid thought he might have finally reached through to the man, Dimitri frowned while seemingly on the verge of crying.

"If you are such a benevolent soul, Khalid… Where were you when my people needed your aid? You know the things the Empire did to my land. You did nothing to help."

Khalid stood and began to pace the room as Dimitri once had. He took time to formulate a thorough answer before speaking. "When Cornelia's coup occurred and you were declared dead, my grandfather was still trying to make sense of the situation. The Kingdom's quick decline left us in a bad bind. We did not have the power alone to fight the Empire. Luckily for us, the Empire focused on handling the Kingdom first rather than completely split their armies. Though their intentions to unify Fódlan were clear, no significant moves had been made towards the Alliance. They left Leicester's collaborating border houses to keep us in check in the meantime. If we truly mustered the full strength of Houses Riegan, Goneril, Edmund, Daphnel, and Albrecht, among others, we could have forced Gloucester, Ordelia, and Acheron into submission, sure. However, it would have drawn the attention of the Empire. That left us with a difficult decision- delay an imperial invasion by maintaining the status quo or make a fatal stand by either uniting the Alliance or throwing support to Faerghus."

He then sighed. "At the end of the day, the people of the Leicester swore their allegiance to my grandfather, and in return, he had the responsibility to protect them. The same went for me when I became leader. He and I both agreed on what had to be done- play up the squabbling in the Alliance as much as possible to keep the Empire out while also holding it together just enough to prevent outright civil war. It was a difficult order, but it was the only option for us to survive. We were holding out hope that a new variable would come into play that might tip the balance in our favor. If it didn't come, I would have tried lulling Edelgard into an ambush that would either end with the emperor's death or my exit to Almyra. Hopefully, it would be a single, climatic battle so my people would not suffer. I thought we had a chance at salvation when Byleth returned and formed the Resistance Army, but… well, the rest is history."

Khalid moved closer to the windows where Dimitri sat and looked outside. They both watched as the candles puncturing the darkness in the below houses were slowly extinguished.

When the hapless prince did not reply, Khalid said, "I'm sorry, but I can't stand here and apologize for that choice. But I understand that just as I did my duty, you also loved your people. I don't blame you if you are bitter against me for it. What happened in Faerghus, and to you, is unspeakable. I am very sorry for it. I promise I'll do what I can to see you are never treated like that again."

Dimitri turned to Khalid with his eye watered and nodded ever so subtly. When he spoke, it was of a different topic. "So, you wanted to both rule Fódlan and Almyra. Did you plan on unifying those crowns as well?"

"The future I dream of will come sooner and more smoothly with as few borders as possible, but I understand that removing all boundaries is only an ideal for now. There are differences between Almyra and Fódlan that need to be bridged before that is possible, and they probably won't be settled in my lifetime. Once my objectives were met, I would have returned to Almyra to be nominated heir and leave Fódlan in someone else's hands."

"And who would that have been?"

"That would have depended on who seemed the most receptive to my ideas and was in a position to take charge. Honestly… it might have been you."

Dimitri snorted and rubbed his face. "Ridiculous," he muttered.

Silence dominated for a minute. Khalid then asked, "So… where do we go from here? Are you still coming with me?"

"I don't know. Going back to Fódlan seems impossible at this point."

"Answer this, then. Do you have any actual issues with my goals themselves? Not about the war or whatever- just the dream itself of tearing down Fódlan's Throat."

"… Not necessarily," Dimitri grunted.

"Well, that dream hasn't changed, even if I've lost the war in Fódlan. If you stay by my side, you can still help it come true, and you'll get to witness all of my plans and choices firsthand. If you find any of my methods objectionable, you'll be in just the right place to call me out for it."

When Dimitri did not respond, Khalid lethargically took a seat on the sill across from his companion and let his head slump against the wall. He then exhaled, "You know… I miss Fódlan, too. I miss my friends. We have nothing left of that life except each other. We won't always agree, but I think we need to try to find a way to make this work. What do you think?"

After a long wait, Dimitri said in a near whisper, "To be completely alone… it is a harsh fate. I do not wish to be in that position again." He took a deep breath. "So… I will try to trust you. What other option is there?"

No one answered the question as they silently stared out over the sleeping city.