They do not fuck off.

In fact, all three become immeasurably more chatty with me throughout the trip, much to my displeasure. It is only as we catch sight of the monastery on the third and last day of our journey that Edelgard alone begins to grow quiet and sullen.

At that moment I find myself appreciating her charms.

As Claude and Dimitri continue to yap my right ear off, I take stock of the girl walking beside me, staring intently at the mountaintop fortress that apparently doubles as the holiest site in the continent's religious landscape. I just learned that news today. Far from offering her any spiritual comfort, it seems to me as if she dreads the place.

I find myself sharing the same look of indecision that creeps on her face, just beyond her ability to notice. I suspect if she knew I was staring at her just now, she'd maybe crack a smile or do something defensive. I'm starting to appreciate how lost in her own mind she gets. It's… the most honest part about her. As if she's lost control of a mask that is otherwise tightly bound to her face whenever she talks to someone else. It makes me want to learn more about what lies behind.

My attention returns briefly to the monastery after Claude points out the narrow viaduct that connects the citadel to the rest of the highlands. The place quickly registers in my mind as impregnable. A part of me, hidden deep inside the recesses of my mind, considers the idea of being able to conquer it someday. But that feeling quickly dissipates with a tacit acknowledgement that such a thing must be impossible under normal circumstances.

Our group splits as a contingent of riders arrive with horses for the nobles. My father and I get no such consideration.

I notice all three of the Lords have retainers, and take a mental note of each. A behemoth, clearly a brave from Duscur helps Dimitri into the saddle. Some great calamity happened in that place not long ago. The few remaining mercenaries from there fight with an unquenchable fire about them - especially on the Throat. I suspect that man is no different.

A pink-haired adolescent who possesses the busty bosom of a midwife chastises Claude from her steed as he mounts his on his own. She appears to be much the same age as Edelgard, but certainly outcompetes her as a woman.

Finally, a wiry young man, almost certainly my age, with a jet of black hair covering his left eye stares a dagger into me, a menacing half-glare which I return with a blank stare. He holds this as he absentmindedly listens to Edelgard, who rather suddenly takes to her mount before the fellow can even assist her. Perhaps realizing that he lost himself, his eyes never leave her after. I suspect this is the fellow referred to as Hubert.

After another two hours on foot, we finally arrived at the Monastery. It's already midday by the time we cross the bridge. Catching a view of a green-haired woman staring at us from a balcony across the pavilion, I'm finally spurred to ask my father how the place's name is spelled, as it occurs to me that I'll be referring to it in my diary more frequently.

"You're actually keeping up with that?" He asked, a look of surprise washing over his face.

"The last entry was about six thousand words." I reply.

"Well, I'll be damned." My father looked well and truly surprised. I don't recall him wearing a face like that ever in my life, at least when talking to me.

"You asked me to keep up with it." I replied.

"Guess I did, didn't I?" He asked, scratching his hair. I think it was a rhetorical question.

I didn't bother replying.

"G-a-r-e-g-g M-a-c-h" He offers.

"Thanks."

"Alois says they're going to have us meet with Lady Rhea soon."

"Lady Rhea?"

"The Archbishop."

"The green haired woman who was staring at us from the tower?"

"Yup. That one."

"Why?"

My father took the opportunity to rub his chin.

"Well… I've got a bit of history with her."

I stare at him.

"Don't look at me like that. Honestly, it's probably a story best saved for another time. I'll just say this: don't trust her."

"I don't."

"Yeah, but that's not really a unique circumstance for you, is it? You don't trust anyone."

I don't hazard a reply there.

"Ouch. Thanks for the vote of confidence, kid."

"I figured the implication was 'except dad'."

"Implication isn't your strong suit. I'd stick with swordplay, if I were you."

I shrug.

"Anyway, Alois said that she wants to hire you as a temp instructor for the semester. You'll probably play escort or bodyguard for those noble brats. Just nod and keep your mouth shut until I find a legitimate way for us to get back to Remire, alright? If we just cut and run, we're liable to get blacklisted by the church."

That whole situation didn't sit well with me, but I've done worse.

"What about you?" I ask at last. "They have you doing mercenary work?"

"Not quite. They want me to run with their Knights for awhile."

"Training?"

"Yeah, mostly. They've been flooding the ranks over the past two decades. It's not the same as it used to be. Alois doesn't really have standards, so someone has to."

"What about the company?" I ask a question that's been burning at me for awhile.

"We're bringing them up here and folding them with the Knights for the time being." He said, after raising his hand to his hair. "Not the best situation, but they'll get paid."

"You're worried about them jumping ship?"

"Yeah, that and-"

Alois suddenly appears and cuts into our discussion with a joke about melons. Segueing rather tactlessly, he then informs us that it's time for our audience with Lady Rhea.


When we enter the audience chamber, however, there is no Lady Rhea. Just another forgettable-looking guy with green hair. He doesn't even bother to look at me, which is fine. For the best, really.

"Thank you for your patience, Jeralt. My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop."

"I think we've met before, you know. A long time ago." my father said with a hand digging through his matted hair.

If that was designed to get Seteth riled up, it didn't work.

"Indeed."

As if responding to the call of my father's voice, the one who's called Lady Rhea appeared from a drawing room to the side.

"Ah Lady Rhea, I wasn't done questioning our guests yet." Seteth says, a bit surprised.

"That isn't necessary, Seteth. We have known these two for so, so long. Don't treat this like an audience. We are having a reunion."

The woman cuts a rather impressive figure. She is crowned with a tiara of precious metals, robed in the finest Almyran silks. If the archbishop introduced herself as a Queen, Empress, or Grand Duchess instead of an austere-sounding title like "archbishop", I'd take her at her word. She certainly looks the part.

My father bows graciously. I do not.

"Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke." my father says.

"So I see. The miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. That is your child, is it not?"

"Yes... Born many years after I left this place. I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my child...but I'm afraid we lost her to illness."

My father's right hand reflexively shoots up to his hair, and he tussles it.

"I see. My condolences."

She then turns to me.

"As for you... I heard of your valiant efforts from Alois. What is your name?"

"..."

My silence sets her advisor alight with rage. I've always had a way to provoke reactions like that. Something I can claim better mastery at than my father, at least.

"You must at least show the basic courtesy of telling us your name! Do you not think you are being a bit rude to the archbishop?"

I turn to the one called Seteth.

"The hospitality I was given, I returned."

The fellow was really starting to boil under the collar now.

"Well, aren't you an insolent little-"

My father, giving me a sharp glare, cuts in.

"Hey, Seteth. Calm down. I told the kid to clam up. He's got the tact of an ass, as you can see."

"Well. It seems that his father has even confirmed what we already know. And yet you wish to make this boy a professor, Lady Rhea?"

Rhea then pipes in with a smirk.

"Yes, I do. The children should know what it means to be taught by a professional warrior. And there is truth in his words. Customarily, the rituals of Fodlan's great houses dictate that there would be a day's respite of good food and wine before such an audience that we are having right now. Byleth certainly must know that from his travels. In fact, it seems we have lost a bit of our etiquette due to the start of this hectic school year."

I get the impression that she's trying to butter me up. It's not working. Regardless, Seteth seems willing to grant my point - but I suspect he's only doing so because the directive to do so comes from his boss.

The archbishop turns back to me.

"My dear, I am called Rhea. I am the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. In truth, I was only being polite. As you can see, I already know your name. And a fine name it is. "

I nod. She continues.

"From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy. I know that you made every endeavor to shield them from the worst of the fighting, and took responsibility for their safety from start to finish. Princess Edelgard was most complimentary of your efforts in her audience with me. An entire nation is in your debt, as am I. With that in mind, I feel that now I must lean on that kindness as well, and ask of you a great favor."

"Hmph." my father grunts and shakes his head.

"Jeralt. You already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?"

"Alois couldn't keep his mouth shut. You want me back with the Knights, and the kid keeping an eye on the brats, is that the gist of it?"

"You're correct, Jeralt. If only for a time. We are currently short a professor."

"It's certainly the least the both of you could do after squatting in our village." Seteth reminded us.

"Your village which we saved from bandits, you mean?" My father asked with a raised eyebrow.

Rhea jumped back in.

"Yes. And we are most thankful for that as well. Our aim in purchasing Remire from Count Bergliez was to improve the lives of the citizenry there. As you discovered, they have been under threat from roving bandits for some time now. That was not the first raid they've suffered."

"Right." My father confirmed.

Lady Rhea then gathered her robe and bowed to us.

"Now. I must ask that you allow me to take my leave. The village elder from Remire is in the next room. We were discussing how best to insulate his village from attack in the future, and I consider that a matter of the utmost urgency."

"Of course, my lady. I can conclude with these two and join you shortly." Seteth offered.

Neither my father nor I protest her departure. I suspect he's as relieved, in fact.

"Thank you, Seteth. Thank you Jeralt. Thank you, Byleth."

With that, Rhea withdraws to the drawing room.

"I will be keeping a close on eye on both of you." Seteth warned. "But for now, I must return to Lady Rhea's side."

Seteth beckoned two figures standing in an alcove of the hall. I had noticed them upon entry, but they seemed rather engrossed in their own conversation at the time.

"Manuela, Hanneman, please welcome our newest additions to Garegg Mach." Seteth said before leaving with a bow.

The woman looked to be around the age of my father. Like the court ladies of the great cities, she clearly took great pains to hide her aging figure. I gather from her poise and gait that she must have been quite beautiful when she was my age. Beautiful people just seem to carry themselves differently.

"Well, if it isn't the strapping young knight and the grizzled professor!"

Jeralt chuckled.

"You've got it backwards, lady." He waves his hand and turns around, trading a glance with me as he does.

"I don't know what she's thinking, making you a professor like this. She may be up to something. Stay on your guard, OK?"

"No need to tell me."

"Right. I guess I've never had to accuse you of getting comfortable."

He waved as he took his leave.

I turned back to the woman, presumably Manuela.

"Oh. It's you, then? So young…"

The elder professor then chimes in.

"Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know."

The older gentleman cuts an impressive figure. Tall, gray, monocled. The eye behind that monocle seems to be busy assessing every inch of me. The other drifts a bit lazily. I wonder if that's how monocles are supposed to work? I was under the impression that they were supposed to correct the lazy eye.

Or perhaps that's simply his nature.

"I am Hanneman, a Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy." he extends his hand.

I shake it, which he accepts as license to continue.

"I wonder if you bear a Crest of your own. When next you have a moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so we can delve into the subject further."

I nod slightly. I hope it comes off as noncommittally as I want it to.

"I'm Manuela Casagrande. I'm a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available! It's nice to meet you."

"A songstress, huh?" I reply.

"Of course! Before I came here, I belonged to a renowned opera company. Perhaps you've heard of me? The Mittelfrank Opera Company's beautiful, peerless—"

At this point I kind of tune her out.

Manuela makes me recall an Alymrian Lady Myrmidon I once killed when my father and I took the company on rotation on Fodlan's Throat. She was clearly one of those women who knew how to hold power over men. Her battalion fought with her to the last, at least.

I recall that the Myrmidon and I had been trading blows for hours, whittling away our support troops in the process as we dodged blows from one another. Finally, her silver sword broke. She charged me with it anyway, to her credit. But I lost a fair bit of respect for her when she tried to bat her eyes at me after I had finally disarmed her, just after sending her busted blade flying into a canyon. Sort of like what Manuela was doing as she listed off her long and diverse life experiences.

I just don't get why they do it.

Anyway, while Lady Myrmidon was doing that eye batting thing, she was also reaching for a dagger clasped to the back of her belt. I gouged out her eyes with my thumbs before gutting her with her own blade, the one currently sitting sheathed on my belt.

I don't usually keep trophies, but it's a suitable reminder to keep on your person. The Almyrans temper a fine blade, too.

I'd say the dying Myrmidon seemed surprised when I did all that, but it's hard to tell when people are really and truly surprised when there are just two holes oozing blood and brain matter where their eyes once were. I end up reading people through their eyes, at least. It's hard to do it any other way, because people lie all the time, and I struggle to share emotions with them.

Tangentially, I get the impression that Lady Rhea is lying to me in regard to just about everything. Her eyes don't look at me as much as they look past me. As if someone was over my shoulder.

"-Your Curriculum Vitae has gone on for long enough. Spare our colleague the needless chatter, Manuela." Hanneman interjects.

I guess Manuela was still talking? Hanneman clears his throat, perhaps realizing I wasn't paying her any attention in the slightest.

"Now then, it seems you'll be taking charge of one of the academy's three houses. I suspect you haven't yet been briefed on the nature of each, have you?"

Manuela is chomping at the bit, ready to jump in again. She seems genuinely oblivious to the fact that the last monologue she gave completely flew past me.

"Do you really not know? I'll do you a favor and explain. The Officers Academy comprises three houses of students, each of which is closely affiliated with its region of origin. The Black Eagle House is for students from the Adrestian Empire."

More political gibberish. I just shrug.

"Their house leader this year is Edelgard, the Imperial princess, who is in line to be the next emperor. Coincidentally, I've heard through the grapevine that the two of you are already rather close. That's quite a friend to have, you know."

"I just happened to save her from the bandit party."

"Ah, how lucky she must be. To be saved by a young man as dashing and handsome as yourself. I'm envious!"

"If you say so."

Hanneman clears his throat a bit more loudly this time.

"Well, be that as it may, there are two other houses for you to consider."

"There is also the Blue Lion House, which is for students hailing from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Their house leader this year is Crown Prince Dimitri. He is also next in line for the Kingdom's throne. As I understand, he seems quite intent on recruiting you to be his next professor. Because he's unaware of our selection process, he's going to be presenting a manifesto to Lady Rhea lobbying for your leadership. I wouldn't decline such an invitation lightly, if I were you."

"Isn't this supposed to be my decision?" I ask.

"That's correct, it is. But the students are not necessarily aware of that. I'm just getting the impression that you don't want to stay here for very long. It may be worth considering which associations would best impact your future beyond Garegg Mach."

"What gave you that impression?"

"Most people destined for long careers at the monastery tend not to actively attempt to alienate the archbishop and her closest advisor on their first meeting."

"True enough."

"With that said, your cavalier spirit would probably fit in nicely with the Golden Deer, which houses students affiliated with the Leicester Alliance. You also seemed quite chummy with their leader, Claude. He's heir to the Grand Duchy of Riegan. He is a source of constant consternation for the two of us. Perhaps you might want to take him under your wing. If you wish to maintain an easy rapport with the students, Claude will go to great lengths to help you."

Hanneman is long-winded, but he seems to speak with a bit more purpose than Manuela. Or anyone I've met here, in fact.

"Understood."

"We're having a little faculty get-together tomorrow morning where we'll choose the classes and settle on matters relating to the mock battle. Because you're new, we'll give you the first pick of the classes. In return, we'll get preferential terrain on the mock battle"

"Thanks, I guess."

It seems like they care more about the mock battle than the class assignments. Perhaps that's for a reason. Manuela seems to ponder my lack of enthusiasm for a moment before adding:

"I suggest you try spending time with the students. Some odd ducks in that bunch, but they're good kids. Maybe meet up with the House Leaders first, and they can give you a grand tour."

"Right."

Hanneman then bows.

"Well, Manuela and I have some curriculum-related topics to discuss. Some last minute changes as the library's been restocked. I'd offer you to join us, but you're probably starving. Maybe hit the dining hall first and look for the house leaders there."

With that, they took their leave.

I stand in the empty audience hall for a few minutes. The only reason I can really give for not immediately following my new colleague's advice is that it allows me some modicum of control over my own body. Since my father and I stepped foot in this monastery, I have had a sinking feeling that I'm no longer in control of my own destiny.

It's a strange impression to have, considering that I mostly just killed on my father's orders for the past five years. It's not like I was really in charge of it before.

But still, this feeling is washing over me all the same.

My stomach, however, at long last chastises me with a growl. After a deep breath to settle my conflicted feelings, I exit the audience hall, make my way down the staircase, and cut through reams of intrigued looking students towards the dining hall.


After getting momentarily lost, I eventually found the dining hall thanks to an accidental encounter with Dimitri. He seemed extremely eager to help reorient me, but retreated almost immediately after - showering me in apologies, saying that he needed to finish writing a letter of the utmost importance. Perhaps that was the manifesto that Hanneman mentioned.

He did ask me to meet him outside the Blue Lions class at sundown, however. I agreed.

Eventually, I settled into a seat on one of the long tables facing the lake with a baguette and a kettle of tea. Sothis chimed in and told me that the meal was very boring. I told Sothis to fuck off. She seemed a bit miffed, but complied. I wanted to eat in solitude, just like I had before her forcible entry into my mind.

On the large buffet spread at the front of the hall, I noticed that they had kettles of hot water whistling on hot coals, so I grabbed one. It seems that may have been a faux pas and my doing so ended up eliciting whispers from the students. Maybe I was just supposed to grab a mug and pour it in that way.

But honestly, I don't really care.

I also grabbed a handful of bergamot flavored tea-bags from a container labeled "for Black Eagle Students Only" . Without much thought, I sliced the bags open with my dagger and dumped their contents in the pot. For the past twenty minutes or so, I've just been letting it steep, occasionally returning it to the coals in order to bring it back to a low boil. It makes for a strong Morfis-style camp tea.

After pouring it into a mug, I took a long sip. It tasted great.

My next move was to grab a book out of my pouch. Hanneman had caught me in transit to the dining hall and handed it to me. Noticing that I was already hanging out with Dimitri, he seemed rather relieved. The book he handed me was the Tacticon by Emperor Mauricius II of Adrestia. He was one of the Empire's "camp" emperors - I knew that much. Apparently it was assigned reading next month.

The preface to the work tells me that Brigid, Albinea, and the Kingdom all ganged up on the Adrestian Empire in a single war about two hundred years ago. The war went on for thirty years, and left the Imperials in dire straits. Mauricius was born in a camp, crowned in a camp later that afternoon after his father - Mauricius I - fell in battle, and died in a camp at age twenty-seven from a fever. He started campaigning at the tender age of thirteen, and in those fourteen years on campaign, held together a fracturing Empire.

Coincidentally, it's the first time I've ever heard of a noble really working hard at anything, so I do have a bit of interest in actually assailing the work. Perhaps I can glean something from it that would be useful in future campaigns with my father. It also intrigues me greatly to think that this fellow is Edelgard's distant ancestor. I wonder how he'd feel about me teaching his great-great-whatever granddaughter how to kill bandits with a handaxe?

Especially when this fellow is clearly pondering the highfalutin ramifications of grand strategy, provisioning and logistics on what's presumably her behalf? His dedication is clear enough: "to all of my descendants". From what I can gather, his writing style is about as terse as my own attempts at conversation - so maybe we'd get along.

His approach does make me think about adjusting my own style in this diary, but I think I'll just stick to my dad's advice and just write what I feel - even if it's really long. Maybe Mauricius would have similar advice for Edelgard, too.

Thinking about the devil tends to summon them, and I notice that Edelgard has walked into the dining hall, looking around for something.

Noticing me, she begins to walk over. I hoped against hope that I wasn't the one she was looking for, because I really just wanted to enjoy my meal while encamped in my thoughts. That said, my eyes are still drawn to her.

I quickly take note of her confident gait, one that attracts the attention of most of the students as well. When she finally arrives across from my place at the table, I notice that all eyes are now on me as well.

"Hmmmm. So that's where all the bergamot tea went."

I raise an eyebrow.

"How do you know there's tea in there?" I ask.

"Hmph. I can smell it halfway across the dining hall."

I shrug. She takes a seat, uninvited. On her tray is a bowl of Saghert and Cream. It's a dessert Imperial nobles like. Brigid Peaches and Albinean currants baked into a crumbly pie crust and topped with whipping cream. It's a bittersweet dessert. Albinean berries tend to be pretty bitter. When you infuse them with tea, it's sometimes called the "peasant's bergamot". My father quite likes it. I never asked him why.

"That's your dinner?" I ask.

Edelgard's lavender orbs bore into mine.

"Am I about to be judged by someone who's entire dinner is a baguette and... whatever's in that kettle?"

I turn my head slightly.

"How was that judgmental?"

"Well...you looked like you were judging me."

"I asked a question."

"Hm… well, your eyes looked like they were judging me."

"I'll close them the next time we share a meal, then."

Unlike my actual attempt three days ago, Edelgard found this quip funny.

People are strange. I wasn't trying to joke this time.

And so for the first time, I heard Edelgard laugh, if only for a moment. I felt something really tug at my chest when she did so. I must have grimaced or something, because when she realized that I was watching her laugh as intently as I was, she immediately clammed up.

I guess it surprised me - her laugh. Maybe because it was an almost painfully delicate laugh. It didn't suit her. I've heard a lot of warriors burst out laughing before. They do it in an ignorant way, as if their merriment was in spite of all the blood that had pooled at their feet. I've heard nobles laugh too. Oftentimes, you can hear the malice in their laugh - as if they're waiting to stab you in the chest a moment after doing so.

Edelgard's was so different to any I had heard before. She laughed in a very self-conscious way, as if she was committing a very mortal and grave sin by letting herself find genuine amusement in something.

She avoided my gaze for a while. Her cheeks reddened a bit as well. I tried not to make things any more awkward for her and turned my attention back to my meal, taking a bite of the roll and a sip of the tea.

After a while, she brought her eyes back to meet mine. Her expression seemed desperate to change the subject.

"...Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Is it just you who drinks tea like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dumping a week's supply of bergamot tea bags in a kettle and letting it sit, that's what I mean."

I thought about the most effective way to approach her statement for a few moments, but to answer it, I needed additional information.

"Do you know how many people live in Morfis?"

"I would ask you to refrain from changing the subject." She snapped. She has quite the temper, I'm gathering.

"I'm not."

She accepted my reply at face value this time.

"...Six million, give or take?"

"That many?"

"I-I read that in a demography textbook before coming here. I don't know if that's current."

I shrug. She seems to have calmed down a bit. I gather she's not a fan of not knowing things. What a difficult life that must be.

"I believe you. I was just surprised."

Edelgard nodded.

"What does Morfis have to do with your tea habit?" she asked.

"That's how those six million drink it, too. Give or take."

It took Edelgard a moment to process the information I had just given her. But as she did, I could see that she was committing each and every bit of it to memory. A strange thing to notice, really. I've never taken to watching a person think and absorb my words before. Probably because I've spoken so few of them with the rest of the world up until this very moment.

"...I didn't know that."

She said those words like she was admitting defeat.

"Neither did I, until a couple of Morfians invited me for tea."

"While you were doing mercenary work, I suppose?"

"Yeah, I guess the Alliance was having some kind of internal fight. They weren't interested in taking orders from Holst that season."

I noticed she had an empty mug on her tray, and so I poured the tea from the kettle into it. Thankfully, it was still quite hot, as it really doesn't hold its flavor when lukewarm. She watched the dark, leafy liquid pour into the cup with an intense look.

"Do you not think that such a thing is intolerable?"

"Don't knock it until you try it."

She suddenly looked up at me.

"Oh… you meant the tea... I was talking about the behavior of the Alliance Lords."

"That's a political statement." I noted.

"I had a feeling you might say that. You're a mercenary, after all… you would be without a job had they not been in a civil war."

"You think so? My father never got us involved in those. We mostly fought Almyrans. Defended villages from bandits, that sort of thing."

She made an interesting point, though. Would those jobs even exist without the Lords fighting each other? That said, it's none of my concern.

Edelgard's interest seemed quite active now. Sadly, I couldn't be less intrigued by whatever supradynastic or metapolitical gibberish she was looking to go off about. I distinctly recall her rant from a few days ago and began thinking about exit strategies.

Before she can open her mouth to start her stump speech, I rap my knuckle against her mug.

"The tea's going to get cold."

Edelgard nodded and brought the mug to her lips.

"It smells so strong. Like oil - and it's still quite hot!"

"That's how they drink it." I noted with a shrug.

"Of course." She said, and took a dainty sip.

And then hacked out a not-so-dainty cough.

"I-It is actually supposed to taste like that?!" she exclaims.

Heads began to turn.

"More or less."

She sniffled her nose. My chest ached again, but more softly. It spurred me to continue.

"Can I make a suggestion?" I inquire.

"...Please do. I will never understand how they tolerate this otherwise."

"Take a bigger drink and don't be afraid to let it sit in your mouth for awhile. Savor it."

"I see…"

She did precisely as instructed - well, perhaps a bit more vigorously than I was thinking. I watched her try and savor it like that for a time. Much to my surprise, she lost herself in the process, totally unaware. If anyone was watching us, they'd think us to be criminally insane for just losing ourselves in a little world of our own like this.

And there is someone watching us quite intently.

After Edelgard finished her last, most audible gulp, she began to nod.

"...The way they drink it strikes me to be absolutely unrefined, but it tastes delicious that way! I'm truly impressed."

"Unrefined...?" I teased those words out of my lips. I've been called that by nobles before.

"I-I didn't mean to be insensitive of their culture… it just seemed, foreign! That's all!"

I guess she must have caught herself there.

"Don't worry about it." I say.

"Even so… Thank you for showing that to me. You're clearly very cultured."

My eyebrow shot up.

"Is that a polite way in the Empire to say that I've killed a bunch of people?"

Edelgard's eyes fell away from mine.

"No… really... I mean it. I'm quite glad you'll be teaching here, Professor Byleth. I think I'll have so much to learn from you."

"Ah, so you heard the news already?"

She gave me an almost wounded look - like she had said too much.

"It's just a rumor, obviously, but we heard it from Professor Manuela… so…"

"I guess it's not a secret, right?"

"Right…"

"They're assigning classes tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to pick you guys." I offer, curious to gauge her reaction.

This new piece of information set her purplish orbs alight. They bored into mine.

"Is that so? They're hiring you to teach the actual classes?"

"What else do professors do?"

She seemed genuinely stumped on how best to answer what I figured was a simple question. Her eyes darted around the room, particularly to the figure watching us two seats behind. I wonder how often she's monitored like this?

Finally, she speaks.

"Oh I see now… the rumor circulating around was that Professor Jeritza would be... promoted from managing the training grounds to a teaching role."

"Jeritza? I've only met Hanneman and Manuela."

"Perhaps because Professor Jeritza is out on an… assignment at the moment. He's not due back until next week."

I shrug.

"They seemed pretty intent on me teaching a class. I've been told that Dimitri's preparing a manifesto on why I should teach the Blue Lions and submitting it to Lady Rhea."

Edelgard's back shot up at attention.

"He is?"

"That's what I've been told."

"By who?!"

"Hanneman."

"If that is the case, Professor, I must ask you to consider teaching us, the-"

I suddenly feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I look up rather nonchalantly to greet it, guessing correctly that the interruption was initiated by the older student I had seen on the viaduct, Hubert. He's also been watching us intently for most of the conversation. Shortly after Edelgard approached me, I noticed him occupy a seat two tables behind me.

He betrays a slightly nonplussed expression, as if he had intended to sneak up on me and failed to elicit the appropriate reaction. Unfortunately for him, I have excellent peripheral vision.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but might you be the academy's new celebrity Professor?"

He lays it on awfully thick.

"That depends. Might you be Hubert?"

"I am indeed, Professor. How perceptive."

"I've only heard good things from Edelgard. We can go by first names, if you'd prefer."

"I couldn't be so familiar, Professor. Consider it a habit born of station."

I shrug.

"If that's how you'd prefer it."

"I would, Professor." He confirms coolly.

"Oh come on now, Hubert!" Edelgard cut in. "Don't be like that!"

"Is that a request or a command, Lady Edelgard…?"

"You're welcome to sit with us." I say.

"Ah but I'm not, Professor. I can assure you that I'm not. Regardless, I must pry Lady Edelgard away now, as she has to make a report to the Archbishop about the recent bandit attack."

My eyebrow raised. Hadn't Rhea already said Edelgard had done precisely that before the audience with my father?

I chose not to push the matter at that moment. I traded a glance with Edelgard, though. She seemed to realize that I smelled Hubert's lie a mile away.

"Don't let me keep you."

"Y-you're not, really. Hubert is just being a boor."

"Even so Lady Edelgard, I must be the boor that prods you to your duty."

He then turns to me.

"Professor, I do not believe that I have availed myself the opportunity to thank you for saving Lady Edelgard's life, so please allow me to do so now. You were most chivalrous. I hope you continue to be."

He takes a deep bow.

"She fought really well. I didn't do all that much." I reply.

He seems to take those words at face value. I'd even go so far as to say they disarm him a bit.

Edelgard has flushed red again. I don't think she was ever armed in the first place, though.

As Hubert turns back to her, she's gotten up from her seat and is standing as straight as a color guard. A thought suddenly occurs to me.

"Ah, just a moment before you two leave."

As Hubert says "Professor, we must really be going-", I slip an envelope out of a slit in my breastplate and hand it to Edelgard.

She looks at me as if I have grown multiple heads.

"-Whatever might you be handing Princess Edelgard of Adrestia, Professor?"

I trade looks with Hubert, who seems to be back to staring daggers at me, and then at Edelgard, who still seems rather stunned. She appears to be staring at the seal affixed on the envelope, which is emblazoned with the Archbishop's golden keys.

"Well, you accused me of drinking your week's supply of Begamot in one go, so I figured I might as well compensate you guys for it."

Both of them were now looking at me in total disbelief.

"You guys are the Black Eagles, right?" I ask.

"Professor, how much money is in the envelope?" Hubert asked bluntly.

"25,000Gs, I think? That's my signing bonus plus whatever the church's bounty was on killing the bandits."

Hubert seemed stumped for a moment, and I could sense him running through various implications that he must think I'm trying to hint at. It's quite amusing. I'd laugh, if I could laugh.

"You are full of surprises, Professor. I honestly didn't expect that much - they must value your services quite well here. That said, you realize that gifting such a sum could be perceived as a bribe even in the gilded halls of Enbarr, let alone here in humble and austere Garegg Mach?"

"I drank your tea."

"And you're going to pay the Princess an amount similar to what a baron would consider a proper dowry for a daughter? For tea?"

"I've been told Bergamot is expensive."

"Not… that expensive, Professor. You could buy a feast's worth at that price." Hubert said with some authority.

"I wouldn't know."

"You wouldn't?" Edelgard asked. She seemed most curious.

I shrug.

"This is the first day in my life that I've really handled money."

Edelgard's jaw went slack, but it wasn't really in terror or well… like a negative form of shock. I got the impression she was actually kind of perversely happy about what I just said. Strange.

"You are a mercenary, right?" Hubert asked, as if trying to solve a math equation.

"Up until today, yeah."

Hubert brought his fingers to his chin.

"And you're going to be an instructor at the academy?"

I shrug.

Hubert nodded sagely. The contours of a smirk even began to form upon his lips.

"Professor, we really must be going. But please believe me when I say that it was a most unique experience to meet you. I am sure you will continue to impress both me and Lady Edelgard, come what may."

"I wish we could talk more, Professor Byleth-"

"-Lady Edelgard."

"Sure. It's not like I'm leaving this cage anytime soon. Good luck meeting Rhea again."

Those two rather sparse sentences seemed to hit Edelgard like a ton of bricks, although I get the impression that I already did the equivalent of that to her a few times already in the past five minutes. Hubert, also looking a bit flabbergasted, took that opportunity to guide her out. They strike me as quite a pair, although I suspect Hubert thinks I'm some sort of mortal threat to her.

After a few more minutes, I notice the sun starting to descend. It occurs to me that I had been talking to those two - particularly Edelgard - for a long time. I turn to the large, mechanical clock at the main entrance. It informs me that I'm correct in my assessment. We had been chatting for well over an hour.

That was probably the longest sustained conversation I've ever had in my life.

Is it strange to have such a discussion with someone that I've only known for three days? I considered asking my father about it, but decide against it.

This is something I should discover on my own.


I get lost again on my way back to the faculty dormitory. I was hoping to drop off my pouch before meeting Dimitri outside the classroom.

The layout of the place is rather frustrating, as I'm not sure what constitutes the "top" or "bottom" of a wing on level ground, and that's the parlance all the staff seem to use here. Instead of finding myself on the "promenade" where the dormitories are, I end up in an empty "quadrangle" where the classrooms are. Most of the students have long since left, either to the town or the dining hall to get a meal in before closing time.

Sundown isn't for another thirty minutes yet, but I eventually resign myself to just waiting outside the Blue Lions' classroom. After the meeting with Dimitri, I can lean on him to guide me back to my dorm.

I still don't have a clear idea of why particularly Dimitri wants to "meet", although I'm gathering it's because he wants me as his teacher. I'm kind of flattered by that, but I'm not sure how I feel about it after my chat with Edelgard. I'd probably get on better with her, considering how easily we conversed.

There's also Claude.

But no.

I think I'd rather die than teach Claude, in spite of Hanneman's assessment of our similarities. And since I've already died once already in the past week, I can say that I speak from experience.

At this, Sothis chimes in.

"You're welcome."

"Okay, Okay. Thanks."

I take a moment to soak in the view before me. The Golden Deer classroom is closest to the dining hall, which I just left - and most immediate in my view. The second classroom belongs to the Blue Lions. I can ascertain this by the Blue Lion emblazoned on the banners flanking the door. Both classrooms have their doors wide open, with no students inside either one.

The furthest right belongs to the Black Eagles, Edelgard's class. The doors to that classroom are shut tight.

This piqued my curiosity, so I stroll towards it. I place my hand on the door, and am about to push it when I notice voices emanating from inside the room. I hesitate, and tune my ears. It can't hurt to eavesdrop a bit, and then gauge whether or not I should be wandering in. It occurs to me that I might otherwise be walking in on two random students in a tryst or some sort of springtime love confession. I overheard gossip about such things in the lunchroom. I'm not sure I want to cut in on one, given the lurid descriptions.

Much to my surprise, though - I immediately recognized the voices.

They belong to Edelgard and Hubert.

They are also neither confessing nor trysting - in fact, they are debating.

"-It seems that I needed to do just that, Lady Edelgard, before you said something you would grow to regret in time."

"I doubt I would regret it at all, Hubert. And there was no need to lie to him. He saw right through it. How foolish..."

"A credit to him, then. That said, there is no need to deviate from the plan at this stage. In case Jeritza failed the promotion, the failsafe was always to leverage Hanneman. His niece is back in Enbarr to attend to her duties at court. Reminding him of this will grant us the time needed for the… extracurricular activities required by Lord Arundel."

"I… just think that Professor Byleth is reasonable. He was quite gracious to you in spite of your rude interruption, as well"

"While I cannot disagree with that assessment - am I seriously supposed to accept that you think a stranger that you've known for three whole days is going to be a more reliable asset than a man whose family is under duress?"

"He threw himself in front of me! To save someone he never met..."

"Yes, yes, that's all I've heard from you today. But do you think he would throw himself in front of his father when he eventually comes charging at you? Captain Jeralt - Rhea's steadfast champion of old?"

"Hubert… that is an unreasonable expectation to place on him."

"I did that, Lady Edelgard. I do not consider that an unreasonable expectation at all."

The room grew silent for a time.

"It just seems like you want me to walk this path without allies, Hubert. I wish to believe that I could reach out my hand to the Professor. I want to trust him the way he trusts me."

"Do you realize how foolish that sounds? Trust him?"

"No, but you obviously have an opinion."

"You want to trust a sellsword. Who's father is in the Church."

"...Professor Byleth had no idea that his father was a Knight of Seiros. He was not even aware that Garegg Mach existed… I think they both could be allies, Hubert. Their presence here seems very forced. Like his father ran away with him and was caught in the act of rescuing us."

I heard a great thud. I envision that it was Hubert falling into a chair or something.

"I must admit that the professor is impossible to read... so while I want to say I cannot believe your argument for a moment, he does look rather like a lost puppy. His father… I have not yet observed, but I did shadow the Professor. He ended up circling the perimeter of the monastery three times before locating the dining hall. Eventually he called upon Prince Blayddid's assistance."

Ouch. Thanks for the help, Hubert.

Edelgard laughed again. Even when distorted, it felt equal parts gentle and tortured.

"A puppy… I suppose that's true, to an extent. But in Remire he was more like a rabid redwolf, Hubert. He killed in ways that would make my uncle vomit. He taught me more about the axe in five minutes than Jeritza has in a month at the training grounds. I wouldn't underestimate him, if I were you."

"The bloodtrail of the Ashen Demon is a rumor I've heard before, I must admit. But that is all the more cause for caution."

"Why not instead of caution, trust?" She asked.

"Because I don't want you getting hurt when he inevitably betrays you, Lady Edelgard. That is why I am suggesting caution."

The room grew quiet again, for a time. Edelgard chimed in again.

"If it ever occurred to him once that I was the heir to the Empire, do you think he would have handed me that envelope with his salary in it?"

"And you seriously think that's an asset, do you…? That blithering idiot just handed you - the richest woman on the continent - a burgher's ransom for a teabag."

"The gesture meant a great deal to me, Hubert... it was from his heart."

"Do not drown me in saccharine, Lady Edelgard. Not now."

"He was totally ignorant of my birth and station when he threw his life away for me. And he still is, even now."

"At both of your perils."

"Hubert, that is exactly why I want Professor Byleth as my teacher. It is very clear to me now."

A sigh erupted and reverberated on the walls.

"Clear?"

"Clear to me, Hubert. It seems as if you have no desire to understand my feelings about this."

"Your eyes are clouded by adolescent infatuation, Lady Edelgard. You are mistaking that for clarity."

"I-I am certainly not-"

Before I could catch the rest of her stammered reply, I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder.

"Professor!"

I turn to meet the familiar voice.

"Hello, Dimitri."

Dimitri isn't alone this time, either. His entire house - or at least what looks like his entire house- has joined him.

"I think you've got the wrong room, Professor, that's the Black Eagle classroom, we're next door to your left."

The voices on the other side have gone quiet, so I realize that they must be aware of it as well. I scratch my hair, a move I stole from my father - and feigned a look of confusion.

"I keep getting lost here. Sorry."

Dimitri seems to pick up on my moment of contemplation.

"I never realized how difficult it must be for someone to just adapt into Garegg Mach like you have, Professor. All of us were properly oriented. You have my apologies for not being more attentive to your circumstances."

A woman with light brown hair then chimes in from Dimitri's left. She's quite pretty, I think. If I knew what a mother's love was, perhaps I'd think she was motherly as well. It's just an impression that I get. She just kind of exudes warmth. I can feel sadness in her expression as well, sort of like Edelgard's - but warmth certainly predominates. My shoulders relax as we meet eyes.

"Professor, you can tell which classroom is which by the banners. But please feel free to ask us for directions! We're always happy to help."

"An excellent observation, Mercedes!" Dimitri confirmed.

I could almost appreciate how insufferably earnest they were. Perhaps a different, more naive version of myself would have gravitated towards these guys from the start. Maybe I would have found the two Black Eagles cold and insufferably distant instead of intriguing. But even now, I find myself drifting towards a different path.

The least I can do, however, is show this group kindness. They're good kids, I can tell as much. They deserve that much. So I steal a page from Hubert and offer one of those deep noble bows to the woman Dimitri calls Mercedes.

"I am in your debt, my lady."

When I return to my normal standing gait, I see she's blushed red.

"Oh my, the new professor is such a gentleman! And so young!"

A male student to Dimitri's right with a hair color matching Mercedes's cheeks laughs heartily.

"Ah, so the rumors are true. The new professor appreciates the ladies, too!"

From my extreme periphery, I notice a pair of purple orbs leering at me from a crack in the door. And a single yellow one, as well - perhaps with less interest than the purple pair. Still, I figure that I probably shouldn't make an effort to meet those glances just yet.

Dimitri suddenly looks like he's committed some mortal faux pas again, a face much the same to his expression after our skirmish in Remire.

"Professor, let's hurry inside our room. That will give me the chance to introduce you to the Blue Lions while Ingrid and Annette dress the tables. Otherwise, the sweet buns that Mercedes and Ashe baked will grow cold."

"Sweet buns?" I asked, stunned. Did they actually bake for me?

"Of course! This is our way to thank you! You saved Prince Dimitri, after all!" A grey-haired kid with freckles yipped. That must be Ashe...?

These guys were too much. Maybe I was reconsidering my decision a bit.

I followed them inside.

The sweet buns were as warm as Mercedes' smile. But warmer still was the blanket of sincerity and kindness I felt from the Blue Lions. Even the two who were most clammed up, a Duscur native by the name of Duedue and a boy named Felix, the heir of house Fraldarius ended up having their moments.

"We're eating today, but starting tomorrow, I'm going to challenge you." the latter told me.

"To what?" I ask.

"A duel. I heard you got your nickname from your swordplay." Felix reflexively reaches for a sheathed rapier at his belt.

"What's your nickname, Professor?" The freckled baker Ashe asks.

"-The Ashen Demon, was it?" Dimitri asked. "However did you earn that ominous moniker?"

"It's a long story." I shrugged.

"A cousin of mine served with you in the Locket." Duedue noted. "He said an Ash Demon could leap on top of wyverns and kill their riders. Most impressive."

"You'll never catch me like that, professor." Ingrid Galatea chimed in with a wink. She was on her third sweet bun. I'm impressed she can keep a figure like hers doing that - but I suppose that's a benefit of being a kid, isn't it?

"I doubt we'll be crossing swords like that anytime soon." I offer.

"Well you said that the way the professors choose the class is random, isn't it, Prof?" Sylvain, ladykiller extraordinaire asked.

"Sort of. We choose, but I don't know if I'll get first pick. That's the random bit." A white lie. The last thing I'd want to do is hurt them if I chose anyone else. And of course - that anyone else is Edelgard.

It still feels terrible though. As if the sweet bun in my hand is a great betrayal of some sort. In any other universe, I should be choosing these guys, right? So then why do my thoughts fall back to that dishonest Adrestian and her acidic little butler?

And so I resolve to myself: from here on, no more secrets. They deserve better. These kids… because that's what they are... deserve my honesty. The Byleth who lies to escape difficult conversations dies now. He has to, for their sake.

"If that's the case, we can have our chance to fight at the mock battle." Felix added. "I'd prefer to face you as an enemy on the field, anyway."

"-Even so, we're not fighting tonight! Right, Professor?" Annette, a little mage with strawberry blonde hair adds. She strikes me as altogether too conflict-averse to be attending a war college.

"Of course not, Anette. Tomorrow's still a while away." I confirm.

Felix, content with my response, returns to picking at the pastry. I gather he's not a sweets guy, but he's clearly trying his level best to be a team player at the moment. If only so he can duel me, but that's something commendable, isn't it?

Generally speaking, it's hard to be an asshole when you're eating sweets. Even the hardest warriors in my father's company let loose on their frowns when a village lady offers them a pastry. I give my best try at a smile, but I know I can't really make my face work like that.. But do they deserve a teacher who can't even smile? Do Edelgard or Claude deserve that, either?

"Professor, you look tired. Was the journey from Remire difficult?" Mercedes, who was sitting next to me, asked. I find myself getting lost in her blue eyes a bit. They're different from the way I get lost in Edelgard's. Mercedes's gaze seems to overflow in empathy. As if every moment our gazes meet, she is trying to shoulder some sort of burden from my heart onto hers.

It occurred to me that I started this day waking up in a tent on a mountainside. Maybe I was ready to nod off. Or maybe that I was fine physically, but my soul was tired.

"Just a bit. It's been a long day."

"Professor, it's been an honor to share this treat with you." Dimitri placed his hand on my shoulder again. "But we don't wish to keep you if you're tired."

"It's alright, Dimitri - I can wait for everyone to finish, at least." My eyes drift to Ingrid who's about to grab another sweet bun. She notices.

"Ah-Professor, I was going to take this one back to my d-dorm - that's right!"

"Even so, my audience with Rhea must begin soon anyway. I have prepared a manifesto in which I assert my rationale as to why you must be the professor for the Blue Lions." Dimitri stated with determination.

"Oh man, you're actually serious about that?!" Sylvain exclaimed.

"Yes, Sylvain, I am. I firmly believe that Professor Byleth's ability far outpaces either Manuela or Hanneman. Plus, the Blue Lion House has a clear advantage in melee fighters, which Professor Byleth is most competent at teaching. Professor Maneula and Hanneman are both mages. Would you not agree with this assessment, Professor? I firmly believe you and I would make an excellent team."

"We would." I grant. If I could smile, I suspect I'd be cracking a bitter one.

"Then it's settled then." Prince Blayddid confirmed.

That said, I don't want him making a fool of himself.

"Dimitri. While I appreciate the thought, it's best that you don't."

The idle chatter among the students died immediately.

"Professor, please explain…"

I bring a hand to my hair.

"The random selection is taken quite seriously here. I… don't think it would be acceptable for me to disrupt a tradition that the officers academy has. Especially not after my irregular… appointment here. It just seems too soon. Let's just see how it plays out."

The room looks like I sucked all the life out of it, so I add in a feckless attempt at recovery:

"Fate has to decide."

It's the best I can manage.

Much to my surprise, Dimitri's expression seemed to turn quite suddenly.

"A tradition… I see, Professor, I was completely unaware of that! Then we must accept the hand that fate has dealt us. I will pray to the Goddess that we have the luxury of your lessons, Professor. Perhaps she will listen and intervene!"

He looks to his friends.

"Who will join me tonight in the cathedral?"

Did I just whip a bunch of teenagers into a religious fervor?

Mercedes, Ashe, and Anette all leap at the opportunity. Duedue presumably will be accompanying Dimitri as well, given that I learned earlier that he's formally his bodyguard. As Annette clears the table, our party begins to dissolve.

This ersatz class begins to part ways by the entryway.

As Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix take their leave back to the dorms, Dimitri's prayer circle approaches me.

"Please make sure to get some rest, Professor. Leave the work to us!" Mercedes says with a giggle.

"Yes, Professor. Please keep us abreast of the situation, for better or for worse." Dimitri says with a hint of fatalism that seems to betray his usual resolve. It's as if he's already accepted what's to come, but will challenge the goddess regardless. I can appreciate that about him.

"I will. Dimitri, thank you for everything." I return his shoulder-grab. I turn to the remaining Blue Lions.

"And thank you all for wonderful sweet buns and good company. It's a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life."

"Wow! I didn't realize you were so sensitive, Professor!" Annette yipped.

Against my better judgement, I decide to give her a head-pat. She seems thrilled when I do so. Maybe my judgement is actually quite poor at this sort of thing.

At long last, we step out into the evening at part ways. Dimitri leads his entourage directly to the church, a look of firm resolve etched into his narrowed eyes. As they disappear into the night, It occurs to me that I never asked them where the dormitories were. I suppose that was rather foolish of me, but I care a lot less now. I'm more enraptured by the evening itself.

The sun fell behind the mountains a long time ago, it seems. My eyes drift to the moon. The view fills me with renewed energy.

That, or the sugar rush has given me a second wind.

I hear a door creak shut, but it takes me a long time to bring my eyes down to meet the person who closed it. The moonlight is just intoxicating at this elevation. I do my best to soak it in. But what greets me as my eyes fall back to Earth is just as tantalizing.

Under that moonlight is Edelgard, staring at me with flames blazing inside her lavender irises. I close the distance slowly.

"Professor."

I nod.

"Am I… interrupting your privacy?" She asks.

I find myself feeling a bit more open with her right now than I was with the Blue Lions. It's obscene, given the Lions' overwhelming acceptiveness and honesty - and the fact that I know Edelgard is actively hiding something from me. That conversation I overheard with Hubert proved as much.

"I lost myself for a moment. It's… kind of peaceful here, don't you think?" I asked.

Edelgard stares at me in wide-eyed silence.

I don't mind it, happy to bring my eyes back up to the sky. At last, she speaks.

"Peaceful… is exactly the word that I would use too... But I think it maybe feels fleeting as well, perhaps?"

I chew on her word choice.

"...Fleeting...?"

"Oh… maybe my thoughts are not making any sense, Professor." Edelgard said, in full emotional retreat.

"No, I think I get you."

"...You do?" She seems more surprised than ever. Do people normally have reactions like that when you agree with them - or am I just sheltered?

I nudge around a rock on the ground with my foot. Upon closer inspection, it seems to be masoned stone - chipped from the building beside us. Edelgard takes note of it as well. Our heads both fall downcast.

"This place… it was made with human hands, right? In the end, we're fleeting things, too. The guy who carved this thing has probably been dead for a long time now. It's just the stone that remains. And maybe this place… will disappear too, in time."

I think that's the longest sequence of thoughts I've ever strung together in my life.

Edelgard considers my words - much more than I did before even uttering them - but I wonder if she's really listening to them as much as fixating on them. She strikes me as that type of person.

"I see… but that's an awfully blasphemous thing to say, considering who just hired you. Some say that the Goddess herself built this place, you know… by virtue of that, Garegg Mach will last forever."

I gently kick the chipped stone over to see its obverse. As it flips, I can see - clearly engraved, the handle of a key cut roughly into the stone. It's almost certainly a chunk from a statue above us that adorns the windows high above the classrooms. I suspect it's probably from one of the various saints that the followers of Seiros worship.

"The Goddess, huh?"

"Yes… according to many, she will return to live here someday as well. It's her home, after all."

I pick up the chip, and hold it for us both to examine in the moonlight.

"Do you think the Goddess passed her masonry exams?" I ask.

A goofy smile found itself forming on Edelgard's lips.

"You make such terrible jokes… First in the hedgerow, then in the cafeteria..."

"They're not so terrible if they make you smile, right?"

The fire in her eyes departed and took up residence in her cheeks. She was without words for a time. Deathly Silent Edelgard is my favorite mask of hers, I think. It's a shame she's only like that when embarrassed.

"W-well… even so… I must ask a question of you, Professor-"

A familiar voice cuts off her flustered query before she can even make it.

"Woah, Teach! Is Edel bullying you?"

Claude. He's also brought his pink-haired, well-endowed retainer with him.

"I-I am c-certainly not bullying anyone, von Riegan! Particularly not Professor Byleth!"

I look at Edelgard with a raised eyebrow. She's not actually this easily flustered, is she?

"Then why are you yelling while frowning… and have cheeks reddened with anger?" Claude asked, bringing his index fingers under his eyes.

"B-Because- ugh…" She realizes she's getting hooked again, this time.

Claude takes a performative stance while stroking the mostly imaginary peach fuzz on his chin. He seems to be telegraphing that he's deep in thought.

"Oh… are you two doing something else?"

"Ooooh, Claude - maybe we should just leave them be, then…" his retainer interjected with a devilish smirk.

"Claude…!" Edelgard took the bait again.

The House Leader of the Deer grows tired with his mark and turns back to me.

"I heard from Dimitri that you were still up, so I figured I'd invite you for a drink."

"A-a drink, as in alcohol?!" Edelgard interjects again. Riegan trades glances with her, but doesn't reply.

"There's a real cool place in the monastery town. Run by a chick from Dagda. They've got all the best booze, Teach - I swear. Hilda and I have been scoping it for weeks now."

Hilda, his retainer, nods and hums. She turns to Edelgard. "They've even got fruity stuff for us girls! Have you ever had a cocktail, Princess Edelgard?"

I turn back to Edelgard.

"Are you seriously considering such a proposition, Professor?!" She asks, still shocked.

"Shouldn't I be?" I ask her.

"Drinking alcohol is expressly prohibited on the monastery grounds, I think…"

She sounded as wound-up as Dimitri just did.

"We won't be drinking on the monastery grounds, Princess. We'll be in town." Claude notes.

"Such an establishment would serve youths like us?"

"Hah! Obviously not, Princess. You know we can't buy it. We can only drink it if offered."

"Oh, it's one of those loopholes." I add.

"Professor, you know about this?!" The Black Eagle's voice takes flight.

"My father used to get me to drink when we took contracts on Fodlan's Throat." I turn back to Claude, "I really don't know anything political, but that's Church territory too, I think?"

"More or less, Teach. Eastern Church, but they play by the same rules."

I turn back to the Adrestian.

"Right. I can offer you guys drinks, you just can't buy them."

"Even so…" she managed.

"Yup yup. See, he's a natural fit for the Golden Deer- right Hilda?" Claude interjected, elbowing his retainer.

"Wow… so you've been to the Locket! The Professor probably fought with my brother, then!"

She approached me and got extremely close. I don't think I've ever had anyone this far in my personal space who wasn't actively trying to kill me, in fact. Her bouncy chest brushes against mine. I can clearly smell her perfume - it's an overpowering amber-like scent. In my periphery, I'm quite sure I noticed a trail of blood falling from Edelgard's nostril.

"Did you ever meet my older brother Holst, Professor?" she asks.

Her breath smells like mint.

Holst… a name I'm almost too familiar with. My father spent a great deal of time in his employ. There's no more prolific user of mercenaries in all of Fodlan, in fact. Additionally, he pays well. Or at least my father tells me that he pays well.

"...He has pink hair too, right?"

"Yeah! Yeah! Everyone with a Crest of Goneril has pink hair, y'know!"

"We... pretty much know each other. I think he only knows me by my nickname, though."

Claude chuckles.

"The Ashen Demon… known only by reputation… you really are the second most interesting guy here, Professor."

I turned to Claude.

"Oh?"

"Second to me, of course. But... we'd make a good team, I think. I'm currently in the market for a partner-in-crime who can properly approach my genius."

Hilda turned back to Claude.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"

The Adrestian's had enough, too.

"Oh, shut up, Claude."

"You know Princess, you're welcome to join us too-" he managed, before Hilda got right into his face next. She began to chew him out for being a bad friend. If I had the same unrestrained tap into my emotional wellspring as her, I'd probably do the same. But I scarcely have emotions at all, let alone access to them.

"Ha... never."

Letting the two Deer have it out, I turn back to Edelgard.

"Never?"

Her eyes widened.

"Well… not never... but I must be conscious of my station before doing something of questionable legality and morality such as…"

I guess this is another version of Edelgard with a mask on. She must have put this one on when Claude arrived.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You have an opinion on that, Professor…?" she asks.

"Not really. I was just thinking about what you said earlier."

"...You were…?"

"Our time's fleeting, right? I guess I'm surprised you don't want to go."

"Is that so...?"

"If we're short on time, why not make the most of it?"

First, Edelgard reacts sullenly. But suddenly, perhaps in spite of itself, a smirk crawls across Edelgard's lip.

"Now it sounds as if you are encouraging me to do something illicit."

She doesn't seem particularly angry at me doing so, in spite of that monologue from a moment ago.

"Laws just sound like more political stuff to me."

Edelgard rolls her eyes, but the smirk remains.

"...I refuse to laugh at every deadpan observation of yours."

I tilt my head a bit, questioning what gave her the impression that I was joking. Her eyes fall from mine.

"I guess you were being serious, then… you are... difficult to read sometimes..."

Claude finally pries Hilda away from his face.

"Yo- Teach, is the Princess comin' or not?"

I thrust up my index finger to Claude, and then turn back to Edelgard.

"Can you save me from becoming the third wheel?"

She mouths the words third wheel before catching my meaning. Her eyebrows raise when she does. Looking back at Claude and Hilda, and then back at me, she loses herself in the slightest of smirks. Maybe they've got a fancier term for it in the Imperial court.

The Heir to the Adrestian Empire then looks to her left rear and her right rear. I presume she's checking for her own retainer, that Hubert fellow. Her smirk then takes on a bit more life, and grows into a genuine smile. And it's such a nice one.

"Well... I think it is impossible for me to save anyone… but perhaps we can enjoy our fleeting time, Professor."