Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem Three Houses, all rights to the owners.
"Professor!" Seteth says urgently. "Have you seen Flayn?"
"Yes. Many times."
"Have you seen her today?"
"I have not." Byleth says.
"Last night?"
"No."
"Then you must help me find her!" Seteth insists. "She is missing, Professor!"
"Assassins." Byleth thinks instantly.
"Do not jump to conclusions." Sothis chides. "Perhaps she ran away, or was kidnapped. She is potentially a person of importance after all. Besides, why bother to hide the body if she was killed and the assassin could get away safely?"
"Did she interact with anyone unusual within the last few days?"
"Many, as she always does, despite my wishes." Seteth says.
"Specifically non-students." Byleth clarifies. "Students are potentially suspect as well, but they are not the first we should look at."
"Yes, yes, of course." Seteth says, taking a deep breath. "She interacted with merchants yesterday when I took her to town, a few of which are leaving town today."
"Anyone else?"
"Not that I can think of."
"I see." Byleth frowns. "I'll have Acrim investigate."
"My thanks Professor." Seteth sighs.
"Also, from where was she kidnapped? Was it during the night?"
"Yes."
"I will investigate her room then."
"I… yes. Considering your penchant for unusual entrances, perhaps you can find something the others missed. No one could figure out how the intruder got in. We suspect teleportation magic."
"In that case I need Hanneman as well. Perhaps he can detect something." Byleth says. "Seteth, who else have you spoken to this about?"
"Rhea, the Knights of Seiros, the other professors, and the gatekeeper."
"Refrain from telling anyone else. The less people know, the less information is circulated, and the less the kidnapper will realize we know."
"Professor, that seems like the opposite of what should be done."
"In a normal situation, yes, we want as many people to be aware so we can get information. When dealing with a skilled opponent however, the less they know about us and our methods, the better. A professional thrives on information. The more we can restrict it for them, the better. If they have less information, they may make a mistake that will reveal them." Byleth says. "This is not a bandit Seteth. If there was no trace of how the kidnapper got in, we're dealing with a professional."
"I-I see." Seteth says, taking a deep breath. "I suppose you've dealt with this before."
"Not exactly, but similar situations." Byleth admits. "That said, we should get help from a few choice students. I would suggest Claude, Petra, Hubert, and Yuri."
"With all due respect, some of those students are slightly… sketchy."
"Exactly." Byleth says. "If anyone is going to know about hidden paths or underground dealings, it's Yuri, Claude, and Hubert. Whatever you may think of their activities, they have skills and knowledge that are immensely valuable at this moment."
"Yes, yes, of course." Seteth nods. Byleth's competence here continues to surprise him. "It is a calculated risk to inform them."
"Yes." Byleth admits. "Perhaps one of them is at fault, but I'd say it's unlikely. The most notable thing about Flayn from an outsider's perspective is either her crest, or her relation to you. None of those students particularly like crests, and there is very little they could want from you that they could not obtain themselves some other way. Blackmail is an unlikely motive. If they wanted blackmail on the church, they'd either go for someone less conspicuous, or Rhea. It's no secret that you aren't privy to all Rhea's dealings and decision."
"I see; and Petra?"
"She has a sharp eye, good ears, appears relatively non-threatening due to her 'quirky' speech patterns, but has more than enough intelligence to be of help in the investigation. Also, I trust her."
"Understood." Seteth nods. "Thank you for your help Professor. I will pass on your instructions to the others in the know. Can I trust you to tell Hanneman, seeing as you want his assistance?"
"Of course."
"Thank you again Professor." Seteth says, and bows.
Byleth makes his way to Hanneman's office, explains what he's going to do, and the man accompanies him to Flayn's room.
"Detecting teleportation is not a simple thing." Hanneman says as he steps inside. He raises his eyebrow at the sharpened stick sitting in the corner of the room, but says nothing. "Magic does tend to linger, but the residue is in proportion to the power of the spell. Warp is a complex spell, but relatively speaking it is not powerful. It does not do much, in simple terms, so it will not have much residue."
"Understood. I will look for other possible entrances." Byleth says.
Flayn's room is up on the second floor of the Cathedral which severely limits the entrances into the room, but that only makes the situation all the more baffling.
Byleth first checks the door, testing that Flayn's sliding door lock is still functional. It doesn't show signs of being opened, but he decides to test the possibility. He then steps outside the door, asks Hanneman to lock it, and attempts to open the lock from outside.
Though he doesn't tell most people, and rarely has to use them because he can enter through windows, Byleth does have some specialized equipment for dealing with locks, including tools specifically to deal with slide locks. It's a pair of thin, small, metal hooks. Byelth's range of sideways motion for the hooks is limited when sticking them through the crack of the door, but there is technically a millimeter or so Byleth can move the hooks in that position, and that's how he's grabbing the bar, moving it the tiniest bit, releasing, and then doing it again.
It takes several minutes, but Byleth does manage to open the door using his hooks. Hanneman is utterly surprised that Byleth managed to "pick" a slide lock, but Byleth is already moving on to other options. Now that he bested the slide lock, he can see marks from where his hooks dug into the metal. It's unlikely the (possible) kidnapper used the same method or else they would have left marks like him.
He checks the window next. It's a simple window latch, and one that Byleth knows even without testing that he could get open the window from outside like this. That's at least one way the kidnapper could have gotten in.
Byleth then opens the window to check the wall, looking for the scrape marks of boots but finding none.
"Perhaps it was simply magic." Sothis murmurs. "'twould be much simpler than climbing a wall or infiltrating the cathedral."
Byleth can't help but feel disappointed. For once his specialized knowledge might be useful, but the answer is probably magic, rendering his knowledge useless.
"Since when did you care about being right? You're wrong about things all the time and you've never cared much." Sothis points out. "How many times has Mercedes corrected you on something, and you just went along with it?"
"This is something I'm supposed to be good at." He says, and climbs up on top of Flynn's dresser to investigate the roof for removable planks. "It is disappointing to learn that I am not useful."
He then investigates the floorboards, and takes care to check under the bed. He does find a secret compartment hiding some romance books that seem strangely obsessed with nudity, but not secret passageways.
"I am detecting some teleportation magic." Hanneman says. "But it is incredibly weak. Short-range teleportation at most. It's unlikely they could get out of the Monastery with a spell this weak."
That's an interesting tidbit of information. That means the kidnapper either had to walk out the front entrance, or climb down the mountain, or needed another more powerful teleportation spell either from themselves or outside help.
Most people don't have access to those sorts of spells, even powerful political figures, so it's possible that the kidnapper hasn't even left the monastery.
With that figured out, Byleth goes to find the students that need to be alerted, as well as give instructions to Acrim. He's determined to have this figured out by the end of the week.
"That's a big promise considering how little information you're working with."
"I've worked with less and never failed." He says. "This will be no different."
###
"Teach, there are rumors of a dark figure stalking the monastery grounds at night, and for once it's not Hubert."
"Teleportation into and out of the monastery is magically monitored, Professor. Teleportation detectors only work if you cross their boundary though, so while they cannot have left the monastery that way, that would explain why they could teleport in and out of Flayn's room without triggering an alert. They were mostly likely already on the inside of the detection border in advance of the kidnapping as well."
"I've got all the tunnels I know of monitored, and I get reports about all the traffic from my men. It's not easy to transport a body secretly without the use of a cart, and carts don't fit in the tunnels. If Flayn was taken out of the monastery, it wasn't through any tunnel I know of."
"I have been doing the observing Professor! I have been hearing from other students that Professor Jeritza has been spending less time than is usual at the training grounds, and has been doing the awakening much later than usual. In the addition, Manuela has been acting 'out of the sorts' according to the Deer."
"I didn't find anything suspicious with the merchants, Kid. I poked around the town a bit beyond that, and there were no signs of anything relevantly suspicious. I got the feeling Flayn's kidnapper hasn't left the monastery yet."
In truth the full reports of everyone were much longer, but that's a summary of all the relevant information. Claude provided the rumors, Hubert explained the monastery's teleportation detection (Byleth has no idea how Hubert knows that, but he has other things to worry about), Yuri didn't see anyone leave, Petra found some of the professors acting oddly, and Acrim couldn't find anything in the town.
This information quickly leads to the next part of Byleth's investigation. The suspect is someone within the monastery, and he has to figure out who that is. Going off Petra's information, Jeritza is a prime suspect, so Byleth tasks Acrim with monitoring him. Byleth himself is looking for other leads, but he heavily suspects Petra's initial lead is going to be enough. Jeritza has always been odd in the students' eyes, so his habits are constantly under heavy scrutiny and observation by the more shrewd students and any deviations are immediately noticed.
"Look at you; surprisingly competent at something other than fighting." Sothis says. "I never thought I'd see the day."
Byleth frowns. "I have skills outside of fighting."
"You could have fooled me."
###
"A secret passage?" Edelgard murmurs as the Eagles and Byleth study the passageway Acrim found. "And one Yuri doesn't know about?"
"How worrying." Hubert says, frowning. He glances at Edelgard. "How did Jeritza make a secret passageway in his room like this without anyone noticing?"
The princess purses her lips in irritation. "I don't know."
"Acrim, go fetch the knights and alert Seteth." Byleth orders. "We're going on ahead."
"Alright." The assassin nods, and sprints out of the room.
"Behind me." Byleth instructs, and the Eagles quickly fall in line. "Expect anything; this is very non-standard for a kidnapping. We may have a fight on our hands."
The passageway is unusually long, and has stairs, showing it could not have been a hastily-dug tunnel. The passageway has been there for a while.
Reaching the end of the stairway reveals a large chamber with a number of seats. Occupied seats, and the pale-skinned people sitting in them immediately rise upon seeing the intruders and pick up weapons and start channeling magic.
"Eagles! Attack!" Byleth barks. He draws his sword and rushes the nearest mage.
The fight is brutal, in no small part because there are an alarming number of foes down here. Desks crack and papers go flying as battle rages.
Once again, Byleth is a sight to see. The desks in particular seem to be useful for him. He leaps off them to jump over people's heads, knocks them over to act as cover, and kicks them into unsuspecting opponents. In many ways Byleth looks like he's taking part in a bar fight with how much he uses the surrounding furniture to his advantage. He makes use of the chairs as well, often by smashing people over the head with them or simply throwing them across the room at someone.
The Eagles take a more conventional approach, and fight in standard formation while using the desks as cover when necessary.
More troops pour in from another room, but with the current room mostly cleared the Eagles' mages can keep blasting at the door, killing any that dare to walk through. The pale-skinned strangers get the idea and stop trying to come through, giving the Eagles a moment to catch their breath.
"Is this some sort of... office?" Ferdinand asks, keeping his spear pointed at the door. "Why are there so many desks and papers?"
"I can't even read any of them." Dorothea says, leafing through a few papers. "They're in a completely different language. Petra?"
"It is not that of Brigid."
"Well darn…"
"Focus." Byleth says. "Kill first, ask questions later."
"We are the good guys here, right?" Linhardt mutters sarcastically.
"I'm sure the church will investigate later." Hubert says. "Let us clear these vermin from underneath the monastery."
Pushing through the rest of the underground lair doesn't end up being horribly difficult. After getting through the choke point the door creates using spells and arrows (and a thrown chair or two) the Eagles break into the next room. It looks like some sort of break room. There is food and drinks all over, as well as what Byleth suspects are games of some sort. There's also an odd, glowing circle in the corner of the room, surrounded by runes.
"A warp circle." Hubert warns. He blasts it, causing some of the runes to flash then grow dark, disabling the circle.
"I wanted to study that!" Linhardt complains.
"It can be remade." Hubert scoffs. "We don't need more of them sneaking up behind us when we push forward."
Moving through the complex reveals more and more oddities. The next room is filled with prison cells, with all of them currently empty but clearly they've had recent use, perhaps even a few moments ago judging by the plates of half-eaten food on the floor. There's also another teleportation circle in the corner of the room, which Hubert once again disables.
"This place is creepy." Bernadetta whines. "Cells and an office? Is this some sort of secret society? Why are they here?"
Edelgard and Hubert share a look, and stay silent.
The next room is less disturbing. Once the area is cleaned out, it's clear that this is some sort of training grounds. There are targets against one wall, and evidence of scorch marks all over.
"The layout of this complex is most peculiar." Ferdinand notes. "The break room is next to the prison, which is next to the training room. Very unusual. I propose that this complex was repurposed from some older use. The architecture seems old, but all the furniture does not."
Hubert nods, his brow furrowed. "An astute observation. Any complex constructed with a specific purpose in mind would not be so… haphazard in layout."
"The Knights sure are taking their time." Caspar says, glancing anxiously at the next door. "We going forward?"
"Of course we are." Byleth says. "This is either a hallway or a very small room. We've almost done a full circle so they don't have a lot of depth to work with. Mages, be ready to blast the room if needed. They won't easily be able to get out of the way."
"Got it." Dorothea nods.
"I'll knock down the door." Byleth says. "Be prepared to follow-up."
The Eagles set up around the door. The mages and Bernadetta all take aim, and all the melee fighters ready themselves behind Byleth. Byleth kicks down the door, and all the Eagles immediately scatter when the Death Knight comes charging out.
"You again, good." The Death Knight growls at Byleth. "Finally, a challenge!"
Byleth is unperturbed. "I don't have time for you. If you wish for a good fight, I can accommodate you later. Move aside."
The Death Knight does not take well to being brushed aside. "I will not be denied. Death permits no delay!"
"Actually, there are a number of spells-" Byleth says, then ducks a slash from the Death Knight's scythe. "Ah, you don't care."
The Eagles keep their distance from Death Knight. The mages and Bernadetta help shoot down the Death Knight while the melee fighters rush into the room the Knight burst out of.
"Professor, we've got Flayn!" Edelgard shouts. "We're getting out!"
"Go." The Professor says calmly. He jams his sword into the flank of the Death Knight's horse as the man charges by, causing the horse to buck and throw the knight off. "This is no issue. I'll have him handled in a moment."
A snarl comes out of the Death Knight's mouth at being dismissed as irrelevant, but Byleth fulfills his promise of dealing with the man in a moment. Without his horse to give him a drastic height and reach advantage the Death Knight can't hold off Byleth when the professor is in his area of expertise. It only takes a dozen seconds for the Knight to lose his weapon and be forced into a retreat.
And of course, that's also the moment the Knights of Seiros arrive; just when they're no longer useful.
###
"HELP ME."
"Hello Monica." Edelgard says impassively. "What is it?"
"He's fucking crazy!" The girl hisses. "How do you deal with him!?"
"Oh, you mean the Professor? You get used to it." The Princess says calmly.
"He broke into my room!"
"Yes, he does that."
"Through the window!"
"Fairly standard."
"I- but-" Monica sputters. "And he's chasing me!"
"I wouldn't worry too much. It's probably nothing to worry about. Just let him catch you."
"Are you crazy!?"
"No. He is." Edelgard says, still obviously uncaring. "If you really need help, find Mercedes. She can generally keep him under control."
"Why you-" Monica growls, then glances behind her. "Shit, I gotta go."
Edelgard stares flatly as Monica runs away, and a moment later Byleth dashes through the room after her.
The Princess returns to focusing on her book. She really, really doesn't want to know.
###
"I was right."
"Not technically."
"Assassins."
"Kidnappers, Professor. Not assassins."
"But you weren't there, so you're probably not an assassin."
"Oh good. Does this mean you'll stop guzzling antidotes every time I make cake?"
"That sounds like something an assassin would say." Byleth says with a frown. "But maybe, because you're probably not an assassin."
Mercedes sips her tea to hide her exasperation. Small steps. He wouldn't have said "maybe" a month ago.
"Incidentally Professor, I have a question I've been meaning to ask for a while."
"Yes?"
"Why is it that you're so fond of my hair?" Mercedes questions. "And not of, say, Flayn's?"
"I like Flayn's hair as well." Byleth says. "But I talked to you first, and I was told not to approach Flayn."
"I see." Mercedes murmurs. "Then let me ask why exactly you enjoy touching my hair so much."
"Okay."
There's silence for a moment before Mercedes remembers who she's talking to. He took her sentence very literally, and is waiting for her to ask. "Why, exactly, do you enjoy touching my hair."
"It's soft."
"Well yes, but there are many soft things. Things that are not attached to people."
"But that's what makes it nice to touch." Byleth says, as if that's an obvious fact.
"Why?"
"Because that's how-" Byleth says, then pauses suddenly. He stares at Mercedes for a solid five seconds, then says. "I shouldn't say."
"Whyever not?" Mercedes frowns. That was a very odd reaction.
"I shouldn't say." Byleth repeats. "And I should stop."
"Stop?"
"Stop touching your hair."
That seems like a drastic reaction. Did he realize something? Why is it a problem? Even if he realized it was inappropriate, it hardly matters now. This has been routine for quite a while. "Why so? Surely this has been common for long enough that there is no sense in stopping now."
"Professional integrity." Byleth says.
Mercedes raises an eyebrow. "Professor, with all due respect, that sounds like an excuse. You've cared very little for professional integrity all year so far"
Byleth frowns. "I care."
Mercedes somewhat doubts that, but doesn't push the issue. "Well, what part of professional integrity says you can't touch my hair?"
Byleth considers this question, then says: "If I explained, it would be detrimental to my integrity."
Mercedes can't think of a single person, not even Seteth, who would legitimately be disappointed if Byleth explained himself. It sounds to her like either Byleth doesn't know that, or he's searching for an excuse not to explain himself.
It's a very odd consideration to think of Byleth trying to hide something, because under normal circumstances Byleth is just about the least duplicitous person Mercedes has ever met.
"Professor, are you trying to hide something?" Mercedes asks softly, but her eyes narrow a bit. "Did Seteth say something to dissuade you?"
"No."
"Claude?"
"No."
"This was your own realization?"
"Yes."
Mercedes takes a deep breath and releases it. She's frustrated of course, but if this is his decision, she has to respect it. "Alright then. Are our meetings still acceptable?"
"Yes."
"Okay." She says, smiling politely. "I'll keep this in mind for the future."
Internally, however, Mercedes is running through possibilities. Something must have happened. Someone must have said something to him, or the Professor must have inferred something from something that was said. She needs to know what.
Sothis, on the other hand, is infuriated, and she makes this known when the meal is done and Byleth is walking back to his room. "Are you crazy!? What are you thinking!? No one told you to do that! You never even thought about integrity! Why would you put a stop to touching her hair? You like doing that! It doesn't matter if it's a bit weird, people are used to you being weird!"
"I had to."
"No you didn't!"
"Yes, I did. I can't show favouritism."
"It's waaay too late for that."
"In addition, I must avoid showing affection for students."
"Too late for that too."
Byleth frowns. "I have done well to avoid being inappropriately affectionate."
"Wrooong."
Byleth ignores her. "However, I realized that my touching of Marshmallow's hair was unintentionally affectionate."
"Unintentionally? Sure. Right. Of course." Sothis scoffs. "It's not like she isn't even a part of your class and yet you dedicate more attention to her than anyone else except maybe Petra."
Byleth ignores that too. "It was an impulse, when I first met her. I did not consider what the impulse was."
"Because you had the emotional range of a brick at the time."
"And so, upon reflection-"
"Always dangerous when it comes to you."
"-I realized I was copying Father."
"...what?"
"I was copying Father." He repeats. "When he wants to show affection, Father will ruffle my hair. Therefore-"
"You realized that your fondness for Mercedes' hair is actually you showing affection and not just self-indulgence. It's just that you were too emotionally stunted when you started doing it to realize what it was."
"Yes."
"Well, that's surprisingly insightful and self-reflective for someone like yourself." Sothis says, sounding genuinely surprised. "You're still a fool though. We are long since past the point where anyone but Seteth has any serious care for your current activities with Mercedes, and so long as you refrain from anything ridiculous it is likely to remain that way."
"I cannot have a favourite student." Byleth says firmly. "I must stop."
Sothis groans in annoyance. "Fine. Don't blame me if Mercedes thinks there's something wrong with you, or if you're unhappy later."
"I won't."
###
"Professor… have you noticed something unusual about Mercedes lately?" Flayn asks.
"I have not."
"You don't know why she's been interrogating people?"
"No, I do not." Byleth says. "Are you sure she is not conversing?
"Conversing…?"
"Yes. Two weeks ago, she had many very nice conversations with many of the students."
"Professor…" Flayn says slowly. "You don't know about the bets, do you?"
"Bets?"
"Oh dear." Flayn whispers. She doesn't know whether to smile or sigh. "Well... how to explain this…"
"When explaining, generally one starts at the beginning."
"Yes." Flayn says. She would have expected Mercedes to explain this. Flayn knows Mercedes was aware of the bets, she shut them down after all (and now Flayn won't get her ten silver from Felix, because she knows Byleth and Mercedes are going to kiss before the school year is
over). "Well you see, during a weekend about a month ago, many of the students as well as myself- I managed to sneak away from my brother you see- had gathered in an impromptu communal dining experience."
"You shared dinner."
"Well, yes, but it does not sound nearly so impressive when phrased as such." Flayn says without an ounce of shame. "There were a few absences of course; I do believe Mercedes had a prior arrangement with yourself, Ashe was- ah- 'introducing Petra to a hidden gem in the world of common cuisine' as Sylvain put it, and our friends downstairs as well as Edelgard and Hubert did not deign to join us."
"I see." Byleth says, patiently waiting for her to get to the point.
"And as we were sharing our meal, conversing and making jests as classmates are wont to do, Annette made mention of why Mercedes had not joined us. The aforementioned arrangement with yourself. A private shared meal, yes?"
"One of many. It's hardly uncommon." Byleth says, totally missing the implications behind what he just said.
"Oh, really?" Flayn asks in a sweet, innocent tone. "You commonly have private rendezvous?"
"Yes." Byleth says, then pauses. "Is that unusual?"
"Oh no, of course not Professor." Flayn says, now smiling widely. "I'm sure it is quite normal. Manuela and Dorothea share private meals all the time, and that is not strange whatsoever."
"Good." Byleth nods to himself.
"Pray tell, what happens during these rendezvous? Is it truly just sharing a meal from the student mess hall?"
"Sometimes Marshmallow brings cake."
"Ah." Flayn says, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "Cake. Very normal."
"Isn't it?"
"How often does she bring cake, Professor?" Flayn says, momentarily dodging the question.
"Every other week."
"I see. Is it usually chocolate?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"I've been told it's your favourite." Flayn says, again speaking in a painfully sweet tone. "To answer your question, yes, I'm sure it's perfectly normal for someone to bake a cake solely for one other person, which happens to be their favourite, with great frequency. I'm sure Mercedes does that for everyone. Why, I practically have cakes crowding out my room from how many I receive."
Byleth frowns and squints at Flayn. He doesn't remember ever seeing cake in Flayn's room, and he investigated it only a week ago. There's also something off about her voice, and he thinks he knows what it is. "Flayn, you're…"
Flayn leans in, smiling excitedly.
"...trying to distract me from the main topic. You were telling me about bets."
The girl lets out a long, deep sigh. "Yes, of course Professor. That's what I was doing. Distraction, of course."
Byleth feels very proud of himself for figuring it out. "Please try to remain on topic."
"My apologies Professor." Flayn considers herself a fairly polite girl, but it takes tremendous effort not to roll her eyes. "As I was saying then, Annette made mention of the reason for which Mercedes did not join us, which prompted a response from Hilda who was very curious as to the nature of your completely normal and not at all intimate rendezvous."
"I see."
"Hilda, for some unfathomable reason- really I don't know what could have prompted it- heard of these recurring innocuous meetings and drew the obviously false conclusion that there was some less than professional motive at work from either of yourself or Mercedes and made a prediction on that assumption. Sylvain contested the suggested timeframe, and after some back and forth Claude suggested they make a friendly bet on it." Flayn explains. "The same process happened in relation to Ashe and Petra's own shared meal, and from what I am aware through the next few days a few more bets were made with Claude acting as recordkeeper."
"I see. Did he attempt to take a cut of the bets for providing such a position?"
"No, of course not." Flayn says. "He was content merely to see everyone's views and 'watch the show' as he put it. He made no profit, bar what he stood to gain from his own bets of course."
Byleth nods, showing that he understands. "And what do these bets have to do with Marshmallow's nice conversations?"
"Why, I can't imagine what." Flayn says, once again laying the sarcasm on thick. "But she wished to share some words with many of the students pertaining to the bets. Perhaps you should ask her for the specifics?"
"It is not my place to intrude on the conversations of students without good reason." Byleth says. "I need not know a student's every conversation."
"Oh, of course." Flayn says. "I should have known."
"You are not a professor, it is only natural you do not know."
"Yes, yes." Flayn sighs. She suddenly feels the urge to find Mercedes and give the older girl a hug. How does she deal with this level of denseness on a regular basis? "Anyhow, I am unsure as to what her current interrogations, or perhaps they are simply 'nice conversations', are about, but it seemed an usual behaviour I wished to ask if you were aware of."
"I was not, but if it becomes a problem I will step in." Byleth promises.
"You… something usual did not happen lately, did it?" Flayn prods. "Nothing at all?"
"You got kidnapped."
"I mean in relation to Mercedes, Professor. Or yourself, for that matter."
"I investigated a kidnapping."
"Aside from that Professor."
"Nothing I can think of."
Flayn stares at him for a minute. There has to be something. Mercedes wouldn't go around asking questions without a good reason. Maybe though, just maybe, it doesn't have to do with the Professor. Maybe Claude just annoyed her again somehow. "Alright then. I shall take your word for it Professor."
###
"I feel your pain."
"I… don't understand?" Mercedes says, awkwardly patting the smaller, green-haired girl on the back. It's not that Flayn's hug is unwelcome, it's simply unexpected.
"I am rooting for you." Flayn says, gazing up with as much determined support as she can put into one look. "Do your best. I have faith in you."
"Thank you?"
Flayn nods firmly up at the other girl, squeezes Mercedes' hands, and then marches away with determination, leaving Mercedes completely baffled as to what just happened.
So, I didn't go into this expecting Flayn to be a master of sarcasm, but somehow it fit so well.