Chrom and Cordelia were standing on the terrace before the main door of the chateau. Though all the windows were clear, the rose window that sat atop the door and the smaller windows that sat on either side of it cast their designs in morning light on the gray stone tiles. Robin was not yet ready for the final meeting before the scouts would be sent ahead to survey the landscape for the next move, and both stood silently in the slightly chilly morning air, watching the dew evaporate silently off the potted plants nearby.

Cordelia took a breath with closed eyes, the cool air feeling good on her lungs. Her worries for her daughter's well-being had not improved yet, and she still could not figure out just why her daughter had acted so strange last night and this morning. She wanted dearly to just find Severa and ask outright, but to say that she and her future daughter were on good enough terms for that kind of conversation would be a gross mis-evaluation.

She looked over at Chrom in the same way she always did. He was her superior, her lord, and in some ways her savior, though her duty was to protect him. She remembered so desperately a time where she desired to become his wife, not to rule by his side or to create a dynasty, but to simply be with him at all hours of the day. Her cheek flushed with a tinge of embarrassment, and a touch of regret, remembering how she solicited advice from Gregor for how to win his heart.

Why did he choose Olivia out of everyone? Someone he met so late in his life, someone from a foreign land, someone so different in personality? Even though she could say she truly loved Gregor and would not change a thing about the current situation, a part of her mind would nag her forever. What did he see in Olivia that he never saw in her?

As she looked upon Chrom, she thought of his children. With a note of envy, she thought of Lucina. Chrom probably never had to worry about the mood swings and irritability that seemed to follow Severa around like a plague. How lucky he must be to have a child who inherited all of his strength of character and leadership. Out of everyone in the Shepherds, she was definitely the most levelheaded, reasonable, respect-

"You cherry-haired harlot!" a yell called out.

A metal chair sailed through the window to the left of the front door, loudly clattering with the broken glass on the gray tiles. Chrom and Cordelia, both on sheer instinct, drew their swords as the front door of the chateau burst open, and Cordelia's eyes flashed in concern as she saw Severa and Owain running with a full sprint as they both clamored behind the adults, Severa directly behind her mother. Both looked in disbelief as Lucina, with a fire in her eyes nobody present had ever seen before, raced out of the door, Falchion in hand, stopping only when she saw her father standing there with Owain cowering behind him.

"Lucina!" Chrom yelled, more out of concern than anger, "what is going on here?!"

All except Lucina turned their attention toward the door again, as Inigo, hands on his knees and sweat on his brow, wheezed heavily in the doorway. He looked up through his sweat, his voice cracking in exhaustion. "H-how," he said, "are you all so fast?"

Lucina, gaze still transfixed on the red-haired teenager standing behind her mother, spoke as though she had not broken a sweat. "Is this something else you thought I already knew, brother?" she said.

"W-what?" Inigo wheezed out.

"Inigo," Chrom said, "what is happening? What's wrong?"

"It's quite simple, father," Lucina began. She leveled her sword toward Severa, and Cordelia tensed up, raising hers. "She has been courting my brother for over two months, and lied directly to my face about doing so."

"What?!" both parents yelled, Cordelia not taking her eyes off Lucina, but Chrom turning wholly towards Severa.

"That's not true!" Severa shouted back, "I was speaking in a hypothetical! I've never seen your brother like that!"

"Your lies know no end!" Lucina said, "I thought Lissa's suggestion was ludacris, but now I see clearly. All your questions to me, the night you two spent in the study, it all makes sense!"

"Lucina," Inigo said, swallowing heavily and still panting, "You don't know what you are talking about."

Lucina then turned to Inigo and said, "You were singing to her! Owain told me you never sing in front of anyone!"

Inigo looked taken aback. "How did you know that?"

Now it was Lucina's turn to look a bit disconcerted. "Owain and I were going to talk to you, and we overheard you singing to her."

"Wait," Chrom said, "you sing?"

Inigo wiped some of the sweat off his forehead. "That's not the issue right now, father!" He stepped toward his sister, his hands outstretched in a pleading gesture. "Lucina, I know I have a reputation, but I can assure you that I am not courting Severa, nor her courting me. I never have been."

Severa, with the confidence one finds when an elite soldier is one's shield, called out, "Listen to him! We're telling the truth."

Lucina looked into his brother's eyes, the Falchion no longer outstretched, but her stance still determined. "Then why were you singing to her?" she asked.

Inigo broke eye contact, looking at his father and cousin, then Severa. Nobody said a word, everyone seemingly curious for the answer. He let out a sigh. "She overheard me singing a song called 'June' in the cave systems we stopped at not long ago."

Owain's eyes flashed with recognition. "Opus 2, Number 1," he said quietly with pride.

"Yes, thank you, Owain," Inigo said.

Owain turned somewhat conspiratorially toward Severa, "I wrote the lyrics myself."

"Yes, thank you, Owain," Inigo repeated, turning toward his cousin angrily. He turned back to Lucina. "She liked the way it sounded, and wanted to hear more, so I obliged. Is that such a crime?"

Lucina looked back toward Severa, seeing two brown eyes that had lost their fear, and the eyes of her father and family friend looking at her. She began to feel a growing sense of shame, as the Falchion's blade touched the tiles as her arms went limp. "So," she began slowly, "you never were courting her?"

"No," Inigo said, "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I would never ask Severa to do something like that."

"You wouldn't?" Lucina said. It took her a moment to realize the same question also escaped Cordelia's mouth.

Inigo looked at Cordelia, then back to Lucina, then Severa. He paused for an uncomfortable moment. Before looking toward the ground. "No. I would not. Not ever."

"And just why not?" Severa asked, her arms crossing.

Inigo clenched his fists as a few drops of sweat came down his nose. Whether they were from the running Lucina was no longer sure.

"Prince Inigo," Cordelia said, "I believe my daughter asked you a question."

Severa had to raise and eyebrow at that. She had not heard her mother (at least in this timeline) speak like that. It sent a strange feeling to her chest, compounded by the strange feeling that Inigo's lack of explanation was giving her.

"I already told you I would not." Inigo said, eyes still cast down. His frame began to slightly shake.

Chrom looked between one of his most competent warriors and his son, his own discomfort growing. As he looked at the mother and daughter duo, he realized just how much they looked alike. When they scowled like both were right now, they looked almost identical. He cleared his throat and said, "Inigo, I don't believe that answered her question."

"Why wouldn't you?" Severa asked angrily. Inigo's frame shook even more.

Lucina looked at her brother, "Inigo, why-"

"Because she deserves better!" came the reply, Inigo snapping his head up toward the redhead and her mother, teeth bared in rage.

Both women lost their scowl, and even Lucina took a step back in mild fear. Within a few seconds, Inigo realized the look he must have on his face and how hard he was breathing. More than that, he realized what he had said. His fists relaxed, and his face softened to one nobody there could decipher. He let out a shaky breath and looked towards the ground.

"That's it," he said, voice barely above a low growl, "I'm done." He began to walk toward the front door, and Lucina reached out her left hand to grab his shoulder.

"Inigo," she began. But, she was interrupted by a rough shake of the shoulder she tried to grab, and Inigo turned back to her, his eyes glassy, but filled with a seriousness and anger that looked so out of place on the normally carefree man. He raised a finger toward her and said simply, "Don't," then turned to the still open door and, grabbing the handle, slammed it shut behind him. The remaining parties stood in complete silence.