"Byleth…" Edelgard mouths the syllables, feeling the letters and pronunciation escape the tip of her tongue, "I like it. It's cool. I'm Edelgard von Hresvelg, but you already know that from Hubert's outburst earlier."

"Yeah…" Byleth responds softly, unsure what else to say. Though, she really knew the brunette's first name, not her full name. Now it's even more awkward for her to bear the fact she's truly in front of royalty. But the blue-eyed mercenary seems to note that Edelgard prefers casual answers.

Semi-soaked hands (which are covered in mostly dry blood) shove themselves into the pockets of her coat. "I'm sorry for not addressing you properly-"

"It's okay." Edelgard answers quickly; an attempt to decrease formalities, "I enjoy being on...a casual basis with people I meet. I'm fine with all the big adult stuff when they call me "Your Highness" and all that, but to the people outside, I'm okay if they simply call me Lady Edelgard or even Edelgard."

"I see." Byleth pauses, "Edelgard…" It's a nice name. It feels like a crime to not call her as the insisted title that all commoners and nobles should know, but there was given consent for her to not say that. "It's nice meeting you, Edelgard. If we do meet again, I do hope it's more favorable."

"Hey kid, what did you see at the marketplace?" Jeralt asks as he puts away his belt and bag; it seems like he is done work for the day.

Byleth finds herself laying down on her bed, hands folded neatly together and placed onto her abdomen. She's at peace. "Not much," she admits, "but I got into a fight with a bandit that snuck in town."

"Oh?" Jeralt quirked an eyebrow at his young daughter, and he grabs a seat to drag it towards the bed, placing himself in. This was going to be a long conversation. "How did you manage to get into one?"

There was a bit of reluctance in Byleth's mind, feeling that if she told her father that he would ban her from going out alone ever again. It seemed heroic to her to have jumped in front of others to protect them from harm, but it was utterly foolish to risk her life in doing so-more so to strangers who she didn't even know about. Still, Jeralt would have pried it out of her eventually (parents were so notorious for that). "I jumped in front of a bandit and fought him off." she states quietly, then turning her head to meet Jeralt's gaze, attempting to read his expression, "he was attacking the imperial princess and her friend."

It's exceptionally frightening when the look in Jeralt's eyes are focused, pupils pinpointing right at her, his expression is unreadable. Though, she feels he isn't upset at her, but more so intrigued and cautious of what she had done. She remembers the blood that was recently washed off of her weapon, hands, and clothes, but yet with her father's eyes on her, it feels like she's still stained in blood.

"Did you kill him?" was the answer that comes out of Jeralt's mouth, tongue sharp and precise.

"I didn't." Byleth responds, feeling the air constrict around her. "I had no intention of murdering him."

"I see."

An uncomfortable pause consumes the environment. Byleth doesn't like this feeling, but often it's due to Jeralt being consumed by his own thoughts; thoughts that were vital in life lessons and in stories that would be passed down to her. She can tell by the way his brows would burrow, the scrunch of his face and the somber look in his eyes that held years of wisdom. She appreciates her father's preachings no doubt about it. It didn't make this sort of environment any less uncomfortable. She's still trying to get accustomed to when he appears like that-the last time she got that look was when she ran off when she was younger.

"I only ask because if you did, then I would need to tell you about the stress that comes from your first kill."

First kill. Incredibly ominous in meaning. Still, it was something she had to know sooner or later. The sooner the better. Byleth knows she'll have to kill someone eventually, whether she was reluctant or not. Killing was part of the job as a mercenary-it made her more of an assassin if anything, but it wasn't as specific. The blue-haired girl forces herself up from her bed, sitting up, legs dangling from the edge as she faces her father. Her hair gently cascades down her neck and slightly down her back (her hair is of medium length) . Jeralt can see her maneuver herself to the edge of the bed and he notes the way her fingers dug into the side of the mattress not only to steady herself, but to embrace herself for the ongoing conversation.

"You might as well tell me," Byleth sighs quietly to herself, "I won't always be clean from murder forever."

"And that you're right." Jeralt replies, leaning back into the chair, "It's not always easy. I certainly still remember the first kill I've ever done."

"You do?"

"Absolutely."

Jeralt doesn't talk about himself quite often. Members of the group don't know much about Jeralt besides the fact he's known as the Blade Breaker, and that he had a child. They knew that angering the man would result in swift punishment. At worse? Exile. He was righteous as well as strict and task-orientated. Jeralt seemed to decline work that was deemed immoral in her perceptions and often picked up work that dealt with saving villages and towns from being raided and destroyed by bandits. The occasional odd job was here and there, but it either required an exceptionally large sum of gold to persuade the man to accept or it was within his perceived morality. No one really knew his whereabouts or his origins. Byleth herself didn't know her father as much as she would like to, but she trusted in him enough that he'd tell her in due time. Especially about her mother.

There were times where Jeralt had avoided answering the abundance of questions that Byleth had stated to her father. At first it bothered her, but eventually she had to accept that she had to "wait" till the time was right to hear some answers. It was mildly infuriating, but she understood to some extent. Everyone in this group including her respected Jeralt's decisions, and often they were patient with him as well (except for the times where things got out of hand, but that's a different story).

"What was it like?" she inquires, blue eyes onto her father's expression, waiting in anticipation.

"It was difficult having someone you knew for a short time lose their life from your own hands. It's hard to deal with knowing that they may have had children at home waiting for them, have family somewhere, or simply trying to make a living to survive." Jeralt finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat, and he continues to ponder, digging into his distant memory, "It took some time for me to tell myself that I did what I had to do. Someday you'll end up the same as well. Maybe you'll feel guilty, angry...lost even. I want you to know that your first kill will hurt you the most in subtle ways. Each person has their own way of feeling when it comes to their first kill. Know that your way when the time comes is just as significant."

Heavy words bear a burden upon her being; Byleth takes a small deep breath with her nose and exhales it out shortly after. She's only twelve, yet it feels like she's being told a lesson that any young adult would appreciate. "I see," she swallows the dryness in her mouth away, "thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Work never ceases, and it continues to pile on in. Byleth notices her father leaving quite often, but he often left her notes such as where he was going and why. It soothed her young spirit at the very least from knowing where Jeralt was. Though, she notices the one time she gets up from bed with a note on the table.

Hey kid, I got up and left for another one of my jobs. But I got a job for you. Take the scroll and give it to the merchant at the marketplace. He's a sore thumb in the crowd, you won't miss him. Thanks.

- Jeralt

Sky-hued irises threaten to remain hidden under her eyelids. Byleth uses her hand to smudge the drowsiness away from her consciousness, stifling a small yawn as a result. The mercenary could see that it was early in the morning, but not too early where the night still reigns dominant. She allows herself the luxury of rest for a moment, letting the sleep ease away from her body bit by bit. It wasn't an emergency she suspects-if it were, Jeralt would have delivered the message himself. She never really had much work aside from being the "messenger girl" that some of the merchants and employers would note of when it came to Jeralt's services, but she didn't mind. Eventually she too will shine out in the battlefield. Maybe she'll get a title, or a fancy name like her father's own title. She wonders what it could be.

Still a bit too early to think of things like that. I should get going.

Byleth shakes her head a little to snap out of her thoughts. Dressing herself up, she attaches the sword belt on, placing the knife and the sword into their proper spots (she hopes she doesn't have to hurt someone again) , and she allows her fingers to run through her own hair to rip out the tangles and knots in her darkened teal-colored hair. Small tinges of pain reverberate across her scalp, but Byleth ignores the sensation as she straightens out her hair. She continues to prepare any necessary preparations before she heads out, scroll in her left hand.

The marketplace was just as rowdy and full of life like it was yesterday. A good sign for business prospects, and definitely a good sign of a community. However, some of the vendors were different, or at least the selections were different. Byleth pondered if the merchants switched their supplies around to keep business booming but to promote new delicacies and tools. She notices that certain food vendors had something different, anything jewelry related was switched around as well. It's fascinating-at least to her how people are keen on promoting and selling goods that certainly pandered to unique individuals.

A certain individual catches her eye, and she notes with how... colorful he is. Jeralt wasn't wrong… she thought to herself, sighing quietly as she approaches the man with the message necessary for him. "Excuse me," she speaks up once she catches his vision, "I have a message from Jeralt."

"Ah, so he did answer my request! Lovely." He chuckles to himself while taking the scroll, immediately unraveling the rolled up paper to then scan the message with his pupils.

Byleth notes his satisfied nod and grunt, and she watches him put away the parchment into his pocket before looking at her again. "Since you were so kind to deliver this message for me, how about I give you some sweet bread?"

Her head tilts every so slightly as the merchant's back is turned on her temporarily, noticing his hands with baked goods in each palm. "One for you and one for Jeralt, unless you want to eat them both, then I won't stop you." He chuckles again, "just make sure you don't tell him I gave you too many sweets."

Giving her gratitude, the mercenary takes the baked goods into her hand before turning away and walking. Her teeth sunk into the soft flesh of the breading, and her taste buds taste the slight sugary flavoring that was added to bread. Her sky-hued irises blink a couple of times, allowing her mind to register the flavor. She hadn't had too many sweets in her first years of life; Jeralt often fed her what was necessary and certainly they were never sweets. Sometimes fruits, but nothing artificial. Sweet bread was certainly satisfying to Byleth. It made her salivate a little bit more, satiating her appetite a bit more.

Her feet continue moving forward while she chews and swallows the reward she received for a simple deed, but she notices lush green grass and proceeds forward. She wasn't accustomed to populated areas-she's much more use to the wilderness and the abundance of greens and earthy textures that surrounded her environment. The smell of grass is familiar to her and this causes Byleth to take a deep inhale and exhale from her nose as a result.

Her first sweet bread had been devoured, the mild sugary flavor was addicting. Her tongue glosses over her lips, savoring the last bit of sweetness. I don't want to finish this too soon… Byleth decides to hold onto it; maybe even inquiring Jeralt if he wanted the second baked treat.

A flash of light brown passes Byleth's eyes. The mercenary blinks a couple of times. Edelgard? She immediately travels further into the park and scans the area. She finds Edelgard with Hubert (as usual) , talking to each other. It was too quiet to hear what they were talking about, but certainly eavesdropping was disrespectful and potentially dangerous. However, Byleth feels her feet stuck into the ground, like quicksand had pulled her in. Go talk to her. Her mind seems to say. You wanted to talk to her and see her again, right?

Why do I feel this way?

It's difficult for some odd reason that she doesn't have the courage to walk up to someone. Maybe it was just how different it was from talking to adults. She was technically done her job and had nothing else to do for the rest of the day while Jeralt is off slaying bandits or whatever threat was going around. Byleth suspects that it's due to how unaccustomed she is in greeting others around her age. They were definitely a little less formal, but more impulsive and unpredictable than adults.

Swallowing, Byleth takes a few deep breaths before walking towards the duo, eyes focused on them both. "Hello," she answers quietly, unsure if she should say both Edelgard and Hubert's names.

"Hello." Hubert answers cooly, turning his attention onto her. "Byleth." Edelgard answers, focusing on the mercenary as well, "hello to you too. What are you doing here?"

"Well…" she starts off in a reply, "I was delivering a message to a merchant-my father told me it was my job for the day...and I got a reward for it and went for a walk...I saw you two and decided to say hello." It was a mouthful, but it was honest at the very least-a bit awkward (she had to work on her social skills) .

"I can see that," Edelgard eyes at the sweet bread in Byleth's hand, the faintest of smiles appearing on her countenance, "I'm glad you came by and said hello. It's nice to have more company...company that I enjoy at least."

Edelgard enjoys my company? A bubbly feeling rises inside of her gut. It's pleasant-as always, but certainly distracting. "Do...you want the sweet bread? I ate one already. I was saving it for later, but...if you want it I can give it to you."

"I couldn't. It's yours after all," how modest of the imperial princess.

Byleth looks at the baked treat in her hand and she ponders before shoving her hand out to the younger brunette. "I want you to have it." she answers calmly, an affirmative nod is given as well, "It's...it's what a friend would do."

"A friend?" Edelgard begins to giggle at the comment, "Byleth, you do have your way with words."

Was that a smile? Byleth slightly widens her eyes as she finds the brunette smiling at her in response, and she puts the treat into Edelgard's hand. She notes how pristine the princess looked, her hand was soft, and the brushing of their fingers made the teal-haired mercenary feel a sensation of joy . It felt good to make someone happy. She wants to get to know her more and make her smile more. Who knew that the joy of others was pleasant?

"I'm sorry I couldn't have one for Hubert as well…"

"It's fine," Hubert interjects, voice and expression neutral, but a hint of satisfaction shone in his eyes due to Edelgard's joy, "I don't like sweets."

"Did you come here to see the flowers, Byleth?" Edelgard speaks again once she finishes the sweet bread, "the park here has really pretty flowers."

"Flowers?" Byleth responds, blinking.

She's seen plenty of flowers on the side of dirt roads due to her growing up travelling. She's seen the differences in trees, the way the leaves would break off of branches from trees, or how they would change colors depending on the season. Different sizes of leaves were also in abundance, and she vaguely remembers collecting a leaf pile when she was younger as a way to entertain herself but also learn about the world around her.

"Please tell me you know what flowers are…" Edelgard frowns slightly, a bit concerned that her new friend was...a bit dense and naive.

"I do," Byleth answers immediately after, before using one hand to maneuver and scratch the back of her neck, "I was thinking to myself just now...sorry. I've seen different plants and flowers since I travel a lot...but I didn't know there were flowers in this park."

Before anything else is said, Byleth feels a warm hand grasp around her wrist, pulling her forward. Holding her breath, the mercenary allows the imperial princess to drag her around, through the grass, stepping onto and over rocks, hearing the crunch and small noises that the environment around them both make. Once the tugging stopped, Byleth finds herself with her eyes widening slightly at the change of environment, her vision focused on what was in front of her. Flowers. Abundance of flowers scattered around the land, sprouting from the dirt with colorful green grass.

Beautiful. Is all Byleth can think of when she walks around, looking at the different specimen of plants here. Purple, blue, gold, orange, white, red...so many colors all in the same place, it was a different view compared to the typical green and woody, earthy colors she's grown accustomed to. A set of dark red flowers next to white flowers catches her eye, and she stands in front of them.

"Those...are red carnations," Byleth hears Edelgard speak from beside her, "did you know flowers all have a language to them?"

"Language?"

"Yes. The red carnations you see mean love and affection...white lilies mean virtue, purity...sometimes new beginnings and hope. Flowers are often given to a person as a gift which often relays a certain message across."

Interesting. Fingers gently pluck a carnation from its spot. Byleth carefully and gently puts the flower's stem between light brown locks of hair and behind where her ear is. "They're pretty...carnations are pretty and they suit you. I find both the flower and you to be beautiful."

Edelgard makes a small whine noise from the back of her throat, cheeks immediately coloring red. Even the tips of her ears are reddened from the comment. "I-" she flusters around with her words, tongue-tied all of a sudden, "Byleth...you certainly are bold with words."

Byleth tilts her head slightly to the side. "Did you not like it?"

"No, no...I appreciate it! Flattered even, but...save those words for someone special."

"You are someone special…" Byleth finds herself unable to understand what was wrong with what was said, "you're my...friend. A friend is special."

"A friend is special," Edelgard agrees, regaining her complexion, "and...I see you as a friend too, even if we only met each other a couple of times...it's nice to have a new friend, who isn't my servant like Hubert."

Byleth looks back, finding Hubert standing guard, his back faced to them both. It was as if he was giving them time for themselves. She doesn't mind, but it feels off. A friend isn't a servant. She knows this. Yet...it feels sad in a sense, having someone devoted and utterly carefree of their own will and being to sacrifice for someone else. However, it wasn't the mercenary's place to comment about it or even give her thoughts on the subject. It seemed rude.

"Byleth, did you know the imperial palace has a garden? It's bigger and really beautiful."

"I'd...like to see it."

Colors splatter on the canvas of reality. Roses, violets, lilies, carnations, and several other flowers could be seen at the garden belonging to the royal family of Adrestia. Byleth feels shocked yet her expression is flat. It feels so wrong being unable to smile, cry, frown or even properly emote like a human being. Yet deep down inside, she feels the joy, the surprise, and the childish wonder that was repressed into her body for years. It was a gift all on its own thanks to Edelgard's kindness.

"You...want to plant some flower seeds with me?" Edelgard inquires, holding a small bag of seeds resting within her palm.

This would create a cherished memory with a friend. Byleth nods. "I'll help with digging."

Hands begin to dig into the soft soil, the earthy smell familiar to her nose. The mercenary digs a small pit, sky-blue eyes watching Edelgard put a couple of seeds in each pit she had created. Hands press down and slide, covering the indentations so that no harm would be given to the seed.

"Hubert, can you help with the watering?" Byleth hears Edelgard speak to Hubert, and she hears his footsteps as he steps forward, tilting a watering can onto the location of the newly planted seed.

The scent of flowers lingers longer than expected, but Byleth doesn't mind. It smells sweet, and the teal-haired mercenary feels human just a little bit more by the blossoming bond she has with Edelgard.

The scent of flowers remains.