After the incident with Those Who Slither in the Dark, Claude stayed in Fódlan for a few more days, helping Byleth get things settled down and rebuild what had been destroyed in the rebellion.

Their first task was to clear the rubble. Byleth and Claude helped with the manual labor, working alongside the citizens of Derdriu, the members of Byleth's army, and the soldiers Claude had brought with him from Almyra. It would be good for morale, Claude reasoned, if both groups of people could see their leaders working together, especially for the benefit of Derdriu's community.

The work was long and strenuous, but Byleth was more than happy to do it if it meant Claude would be by her side a little longer. There was also something oddly soothing about the simplicity of the work, compared to all the complicated tasks she was usually responsible for as queen.

"This reminds me of cleaning up Garreg Mach, not so long ago," Claude commented, as they took a break to catch their breath.

"Me too," Byleth replied.

Claude gave her a playful nudge. "Hey, I distinctly remember you delegating most of that work to me and the rest of the Deer."

She smiled. "That was because it made a good bonding exercise. If any of you were squabbling over anything, I'd stick you on rubble clearing duty together for the week. It seemed to resolve the conflict most of the time."

He grinned back. "I always knew that's what you were up to. I guess it's a good thing we have another group of people in need of some bonding right now."

He had a point. The joint efforts by the people of Derdriu and Almyra seemed to be quickly establishing a sense of camaraderie between the two groups. After the initial good impression the Almyrans had made in saving them from the rebels' attack, all they needed was some time to get to know one another. And there was nothing quite so effective at that than working hard together.

On top of the reconstruction work, Byleth also still had her usual responsibilities as queen to take care of. In addition, she wanted to begin a thorough investigation into the forces behind the rebellion. She'd assumed Those Who Slither in the Dark to be long defeated until their sudden attack, and she didn't want to allow more enemies to lurk undetected in her kingdom. Besides, there had been ordinary civilians mixed in with the Agarthans, who had most likely been manipulated into fighting alongside them. Those Who Slither in the Dark were an inherently malicious group that needed to be eliminated, but perhaps Edelgard's old followers could still be reasoned with.

There was much to do, leaving Byleth and Claude little time to themselves, but they managed to snatch some late in the evenings. Claude had his own guest room, but he would always find a way to slip discreetly into hers and talk to her until she fell asleep.

That time they spent together in that way was quickly becoming one of her favorite parts of the day. Whenever he came to visit her, she found herself imagining what things would be like when they were married. When they could be together like this every night, just spending time close to one another, without needing to be discreet about it. The thought made something in her ache, but in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant somehow.

They never did anything more than talk, and occasionally lie on her bed together. But Byleth got the strange sense that there was some kind of evaluation going on between them, as they tried to figure out what the new terms of their relationship were.

Byleth thought this was something they should probably already know. They'd been engaged for more than half a year now. But when her fiancé had dropped a proposal on her and then immediately gone off to become the king of a different country, it made things difficult to figure out. Although her realization about the political aspects of their relationship did help explain some things, she still didn't know what exactly his proposal meant. Particularly in regards to the physical aspects of their relationship.

Does he want me in that way? she wondered. She had never given her body much thought in that regard, but she knew that a figure like hers was often considered attractive. Claude might not have asked her to marry him for that reason, but it didn't mean he was disinterested in such things.

And do I want him in that way?

Sometimes, when they were lying side by side, she imagined pressing herself closer to him, feeling his warmth all along her body. After that, well... she had no idea what she'd feel or want. She still wasn't entirely used to any kind of physical contact. But as they spent more time together, she began to crave it more and more. And she could swear she sometimes saw Claude's gaze flit briefly to her lips, as if he was thinking about kissing her.

But he never made any kind of move, and neither did she.

Instead, they bonded in a more intellectual way, sharing first their knowledge about all sorts of things, and then later their memories. Byleth told him what little she remembered about her past as a mercenary, while he told her what his first year in Fódlan, as the new heir to the Alliance, had been like.

"You should tell me about Almyra," she said to him one night. She couldn't help but notice that he never chose to delve into that subject. But he'd spent the first sixteen years of his life there—it was that land that had made him who he was now. And yet she knew next to nothing about it.

"What about Almyra?" he asked, in a light tone that made her almost miss the way his shoulders tensed. She'd gotten him to trust her enough to open up a little, but she could tell that it still wasn't pleasant for him.

"What's it like there?" she asked, just as lightly. She'd never deliberately moderated the tone of her voice like this before; it usually expressed her emotions when they were particularly strong or stayed completely flat when they weren't. This lighthearted lilt to her voice sounded foreign to her ears, though she hoped it would sound somewhat natural to Claude. "How did you become king so quickly?"

He searched her gaze, and then answered slowly. "It's much hotter than Fódlan, and more open. Not so many trees and mountains. And as for my becoming king... I'll just say that my accomplishments here helped win the respect of my people."

Byleth huffed something like a laugh. "Let me guess, you told them that you conquered Fódlan singlehandedly."

"Not singlehandedly," he said, with what he somehow managed to make into an earnest-looking expression. "I did tell them about you, you know."

"Hmm." She sat down on her bed, and gestured for him to join her. "And what did you tell them?"

"That Fódlan's new queen is a warrior goddess," he answered, still standing.

"I'm not, though."

"You are." He took a step closer to her, his gaze focused on hers. He gave a sort of half-smile. He's teasing me. "You were a mercenary, and the goddess of Fódlan lives inside you. I don't see how my description is wrong."

"Hmm." She took his hand and gently tugged him down to sit beside her. "If you told them about me, I think it's only fair if you tell me about them."

"My people?"

"Yes. I want to know about the world you grew up in." Let me in. "I want to know more about you."

He didn't say anything, but she saw the question in his eyes. Why?

Because that's something that people who care about each other do, she thought, but she knew that wasn't a good answer. Claude always wanted to know about other people; to him, it was independent of caring. To him, people who wanted to know more about him were only looking for vulnerabilities. Trying to hurt him.

She'd always known he looked at the world that way, but it had never occurred to her until now how sad such a perspective was.

"I still don't know how to be a normal person," she said carefully. "But you already know I'm not normal. You know everything about my past, and you accept me the way I am—unbeating heart and all. You don't make me feel like... like I need to be anything I'm not. I'm just me, and when I'm with you, that's enough." She touched his cheek. "I want you to be able to feel that way too. I want you to know that nothing you could say to me could push me away—unless you told me you didn't want me with you. And then I'd go. But as long as you want me here, I'll be here. You don't need to hide anything from me."

There was a pause, during which each of them considered the other. It was difficult to tell whether her words had gotten through to Claude at all.

"I'm being selfish, aren't I?" he said, in a low voice. He was smiling a little, but his eyes were serious. "You've given me everything I've ever asked of you and more. And I've given you nothing except a crown you didn't want."

"It's not selfish," she said. "And if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. I don't want to force you."

He searched her gaze. "But this isn't just about me. It involves you too. It won't be long before you're Queen of Almyra in addition to Fódlan."

Byleth remained quiet.

"You know," said Claude, with a humorless laugh, "every time I asked something of you, during the war, I had this little thought in the back of my mind. ' She's done more for me than I can ever repay.' I knew it wasn't right to keep asking you for more. But I kept trying to justify my greed. ' I'll make it right,' I told myself. ' I'll do the same for her if she ever asks me to.'"

"I know you would," she said softly.

He shook his head. "But it was an empty promise. Because you never asked me for anything, and I knew you never would. I kept taking and taking and taking, knowing I'd never really have to give back. You're much too selfless for your own good, my friend."

She shook her head. "If you needed something, and it was in my power to grant it, why would I refuse? Claude, I want to see your dream come to fruition just as much as you do. You never forced me to do anything. I wanted to help you."

"But you wanted it for me. You never seem to want anything for yourself." He searched her gaze. "But I know there are things you don't want to do, and you do them anyway, just for me. Giving speeches to the troops, going with me to meet the nobles in Derdriu, letting me make you the head of an army in a war you never wanted to fight. And now you've agreed to marry me, when by doing so you're essentially giving me your whole life. How much more would you just let me take from you?"

She didn't want to say it, didn't want to hurl the ugly answer in his face, but he saw the truth in her eyes anyway. Everything. Everything I have to give would be yours, if you asked for it.

She watched the hurt (guilt?) settle into his expression. "I thought we were the best partners we could be. A perfect match. But maybe I'm not good for you. I'm starting to think that I've been hurting you all the time, without realizing it, and you've never told me."

Byleth paused again, thinking. Was he bad for her? She didn't think so. It was clear to her that supporting him, even when what he needed came into conflict what she wanted, was her own decision. She didn't consider his behavior to be taking things from her when he openly asked for those things, and she willingly handed them over.

But emotions were still strange to her, and she couldn't ignore the possibility that she wasn't looking at this right. Is it bad for me to put his needs ahead of my own? Is it bad for him to ask me or allow me to do that for him, even when it's my own choice?

She didn't know. But Claude seemed to think so, and she trusted him.

"If you're not good for me," she said deliberately, "then be better. I know you, and I know that if you set your mind to it, there's no problem you can't solve. You are the Master Tactician, after all."

His lips twitched into something that as almost a smile, but a moment later, he looked serious again. "Then tell me when I hurt you. Please, Byleth. I can only change my behavior if I know what I've done wrong, and I can't read it on your face—I can almost never tell what you're thinking. I know you better than anyone, but you're still a mystery, and you probably always will be."

She curled her fingers into fists. "I'm not trying to be a mystery. If I could control whether my emotions showed on my face, then they would."

"There's nothing wrong with the fact that they don't." He gazed into her eyes, and she believed him. "But I need you to talk to me, my friend. Not just about things I do that accidentally hurt you, but also about the things you want or need from me." His voice lowered until it was almost a whisper. "I've never been with anyone like this before—I've barely even had friends. I have no idea how to do this."

It was clear the words were difficult for him to admit. She edged closer to him, hoping her proximity would comfort him in some way. "You want to know what I want? Right now?"

"Yes," he said quietly. "Tell me."

She looked into his eyes. They were completely open and trusting, in a way she had never seen before. There was no way she could respond to that with anything but honesty.

"I want you to kiss me," she said.

He blinked; clearly that was not what he'd been expecting her to say. But he didn't ask why. He carefully searched her eyes for a moment and, seeming to find whatever he was looking for, leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

His mouth was warm and soft. The gentle pressure of the kiss was unlike anything Byleth had ever experienced.

The warmth from his lips seemed to spread through her entire body, until it settled somewhere deep in her gut.

As Claude continued to kiss her, he lifted his hand to touch her cheek. His fingertips just barely skimmed the surface of her skin, but they seemed to scatter sparks in their wake. Her breath caught in her throat.

She reached towards him with both of her own hands, and then, unsure of what she should do with them, curled her fingers closed around nothing.

Claude withdrew, studying her face carefully. His palm came to rest more firmly against her cheek, steadying her. "Are you okay?"

Her lips tingled. She thought she'd been reciprocating the kiss, but now that he was looking at her she found herself suddenly unsure.

She hurriedly nodded.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "I just—" Her voice came out sounding raspy, and she cleared her throat. "I don't know... what to do." The words sounded insufficient to her own ears, so she tried again. "All of this is confusing to me. I thought this would make it clear what I really want, but it didn't."

That was even worse; she could see Claude misinterpret her meaning and immediately start to pull away. She caught him by the front of his shirt before he could, leaning forward and pressing her forehead into his chest. Her whole body was trembling with a desperate need to make sure he didn't misunderstand. I do want you. I want you. That's all I know.

He hesitated, then wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. "It's okay, my friend. Take your time."

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. His familiar scent was soothing. "You'll only be in Fódlan for a few more days, and I won't be able to send you off with any kind of clarity."

He didn't respond for a moment, and she had to wonder if she'd imagined the silent questions passing between them for the last few days.

But at last he spoke, his breath stirring her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for. There's no rush to figure anything out, you know. We have just a little more left to do, and then we can be together as much as we want. In whatever way you want."

In whatever way I want? She held him tighter. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. I don't want to make you do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I've done enough of that already, haven't I?" She could hear the rueful smile in his voice. "I don't want to do it again, especially not in this way—especially not in this kind of relationship. I might not do a good job of showing it, but I... I care about you a lot, my friend."

"I know you do," she said. Since it was common sense to her, the words came out sounding flat. She lightened her tone. "But it helps to hear that."

She hadn't noticed how much that pressure had been weighing on her until she suddenly felt so much lighter. He's not going to expect anything in particular from me. I can decide what I want our relationship to be like.

"You were that worried about it, huh?" Claude withdrew, and she opened her eyes to find him studying her face.

"I guess I was."

He considered that response, his expression serious. "Still not the most in touch with your emotions, are you?"

"No," she admitted. "Not at all. I feel so much now—compared to what I did before, anyway. I'll never know what emotions are like for other people. But even with all this extra emotion I didn't have before, I don't know how much I really understand any of it."

"Give yourself time," Claude said gently. "You only started feeling emotions about two and a half years ago—keeping in mind the five you slept through. When I'd been feeling emotions for two and a half years, I was a toddler, so I obviously didn't understand that much about them myself."

She laughed at that. "Thank you, Claude. That does help me put things into perspective a bit."

He smiled. "Good."

That was him carefully taking a step back from their serious conversation. But Byleth found she had one more thing to say before they let it go.

She took a deep breath. "Claude, I don't want you to leave again. But I know you have to, and I don't want to stop you. It's just… you seemed so far away when you were gone, and it put distance between us that was still there even when you came back. We're only now closing it. I don't want that distance to come back."

"I know," he replied. "I felt it too. But it doesn't have to be that way, even when we're apart. Why don't we write to each other?"

Byleth considered the idea. She was familiar with the concept of sending letters to loved ones who were far away. At Garreg Mach, the students had written to their families and received letters in return all the time. But as far as she could remember, she and her father—the only family she'd ever known—had always traveled together. She'd never had anyone to write to before.

She smiled. "I think I'd like that."