Byleth had a love-hate relationship with her free time. It meant freedom from being at the Archbishop's beck and call, but then again, most of the assignments given by Rhea involved battles, among which the young woman felt most at home. Then there were the students. Byleth knew it was her job to get these bleating lambs prepared for the harsh realities of war. While the monastery operated under the guise of simply a religious institution first and a coincidental conglomeration of sheer brute strength, the fact that Garreg Mach was a military academy first and foremost was not up to debate in Byleth's mind.
No, the problem the former mercenary most often encountered was the accidental murder of her pupils. It was just so damn unavoidable. After an entire life as a trained killer, did the Church honestly expect anything else from her? It was irresponsible of them to expect such an immediate change on her part, honestly.
The young woman had already killed Caspar at least a dozen times from his "sneak attacks" on the training grounds. The poor boy could not help but let out a battle cry that gave him away the instant he got close enough for an attack. The sound often triggered his professor's reflexes to draw her sword and because Byleth had far more experience in killing rather than simply blocking, she did not give it much thought. At least, not right away. The horrified expression of the fellow students and faculty always drew upon Byleth's somewhat muddled sense of morality and she would quickly undo the tragedy, but the professor could not emphasize enough to the cotton-candy haired youth that it was not wise to attack someone of her caliber. "I'll bet I could take ya!" was all Caspar would reply, however, much to his teacher's chagrin.
Then there was Ferdinand. The self-important son of the Prime Minister needed to be taken down a few pegs every once and a while. The von Aegir boy's sexism did not endear himself to his stab-first-question-later professor, either. Oh, she must have skewered him at least thirty times at this point. Most of them intentional, actually, unlike the over-eager gauntlet user. Once the teal-haired woman extracted her revenge by the priceless look on Ferdinand's face as he realized he had been stabbed, Byleth always undid it. Even when she was tempted to keep him down a finger - or even a whole limb - as a permanent reminder of his lack in ability. But that would be frowned upon and while she did not have much love for the snobbish young man, Byleth knew she would need each of her students fully intact if they were going to be useful to her in battle.
So, despite it all, even Byleth understood the importance of morale-building by supporting her student's growth and personal development. By process of trail-and-error, in addition to the occasional "reset" when things went egregiously off-track, Garreg Mach's newest professor found herself popular among the students. The biggest challenge thus far proved to be the hermit in her charge: Bernadetta von Varley.
The timid girl locked herself in her room in the dormitory most days, only to emerge when hunger forced her out of hiding. While it was impossible to lure the purple-haired teenager out with the orders to join her classmates on the training grounds, Byleth found far more success in asking the bow-wielder to join her for a meal. "I'd like something to eat," the teal-haired woman informed her pupil. "Would you like to cook something with me? I'll let you choose the dish."
With a squeak of the old metal hinges, the wooden door would open slightly, and the professor spied her student's grey eyes peek out at her. "Y-you mean it?" the girl stammered.
Byleth fought the urge to push the door open and drag the child out, as she knew from previous experience that often back-fired. "Yes," the former mercenary assured Bernadetta calmly. "I thought cooking together might be an activity we could both enjoy."
"H-hold on," Bernadetta replied as Byleth heard a light rustling on the other side of the door. "Let me grab my bag!" The young woman soon stumbled out of her dorm room, closing the door behind her quickly and checking the surrounding area for any signs of potential threat. When she deemed it safe to head for the dining hall, Bernadetta breathed a sigh of relief.
"Let's go," Byleth urged her student, leading the way southward toward the dining hall and carefully avoiding any of Bernadetta's classmates that would cause the most panic - her fiancé Ferdinand or Hubert, especially.
As the two stood off to the side at the small kitchenette made available to those who dared or bothered to cook anything for themselves, Bernadetta looked over the available ingredients. "We could make the Queen Loach Sauté," the girl opined, tugging at the hem of her skirt nervously. Byleth assumed this would be what Bernadetta chose, simply because they lacked the ingredients for any sweets and the girl enjoyed the two-fish sauté that was offered regularly on the dining hall menu.
Without a word, Byleth began to pull out the ingredients for the recipe. The professor learned from her last attempt to either agree to disagree with Bernadetta's choices would inevitably lead to the girl questioning every potential motive Byleth might possess, no matter how outlandish the logical leap. It was exhausting work, but Byleth needed this anxious child to become a great archer and the only way the professor could make that happen was by building her student's confidence.
The first attempt at the dish, Bernadetta got distracted and burned one side of the loach. The girl sank down to the floor, cursing herself in every way imaginable. This would not do. Byleth did not bother trying to console the young woman when she got to this level of hysterics. Instead, the professor snapped her fingers to try the scenario again. This time, Byleth carefully suggested her pupil keep a close watch on the frying pan.
Once flipped, the loach was a beautiful golden brown on the first side and the sizzle of the fish could be heard softly in the pan. Byleth was sure to praise Bernadetta on how lovely and delicious it looked. Immediately, however, Bernie's face fell. "I forgot my secret seasoning!" she wailed pitifully, flinging open her bag and accidentally spilling the contents onto the stove top. Many of the items were made of fabric and immediately went ablaze, the fire consuming all of Bernadetta's intricate embroidery work. "No!" she screamed, trying to prevail upon the flame for mercy.
The professor rewound time just enough to stop Bernadetta's belonging from falling into the fire, only to collide with Mercedes, who happened to be passing. The blonde's sheet music flew up into the air, some of them landing onto the grill, which then triggered the flames to rise up momentarily, giving both Bernadetta and Byleth minor burns and the end of Mercedes' side ponytail to catch. Bernadetta was inconsolable, both from the panic of how to put out Mercedes' hair to the guilt of causing her professor injury. Not to mention the professor did not want Mercedes harboring any ill-will toward the Black Eagles House. The mercenary knew she wanted to recruit the soft-spoken woman for her unreasonably long-range healing abilities. Byleth closed her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, snapping her fingers before she lost her cool.
This fourth instance, Byleth started from the very beginning. After Bernie confirmed their dish would be Queen Loach Sauté, Byleth asked about the flavor profile and reminded the anxiety-prone young woman to keep an eye on the cook of the fish. Everything went smoothly this time around - the loach was fried beautifully, the seasoning was phenomenal, and the little sides of mashed peas and simply salted diced potatoes Bernadetta added really added to the meal. The professor finally believed they were in the clear. After the meal, Byleth carefully poured the cooled oil into a jar so that it could be transported while the professor scrubbed the pan. Bernadetta, feeling slightly more bold after such a wild culinary success offered the carry the dirt oil to the back and dispose of it. The woman knew she had only one more shot to make this entire situation perfect for Bernadetta, but was also pleased with the initiative, so Byleth agreed to let her student help in the manner she chose.
While Bernadetta was gone, Seteth approached the kitchette and paled considerably. "W-who splattered oil on this book?" he demanded, hoisting the tome into the air and shooting an accusing glare at Byleth. This is a thousand-year-old religious text!" the holy man informed her in outrage.
Byleth knew she could technically fix this problem, but quite frankly she was past the point of caring when it came to anyone else's misfortune today. Her goal had been accomplished, after all. "It is my understanding," the professor began, staring Rhea's right hand down with her dark blue eyes, "that books of that level of importance are to remain in the archive." The new professor crossed her arms in front of her and widened her stance. "So my question to you, Seteth, is who would so irresponsibly leave this book unattended in the dining hall of all places?" Byleth snapped, her stare unwavering from the man's face.
Seteth scowled, tucking the loosely-bound relic in his cloak. He could not reasonably argue against the verbal attack, so he quickly turned heel and retreated. Byleth flashed a satisfied smile, watching the man go as Bernadetta returned from the kitchen. "I-is something wrong?" she asked hesitantly. "I heard yelling..."
The professor chuckled, "Oh, just some old reptile making a fuss, don't worry about it, Bernie." Byleth glanced down at her archer. "You did excellently today, Bernadetta," she praised the purple-haired girl. "I hope we can do this again sometime." Then, before Bernadetta could get the chance to over-analyze her words, the Black Eagles professor decided now would be a great time to ask Thomas about a certain volume that may or may not have been properly checked out of the library.