Interlude 2: Caspar

"-And thus, Your Majesty, with this attack-in-echelon, we should be able to pin Claude's expedition against the Airmid River while cutting it off from its main retreat line to Hyrm City. After that, we can annihilate it at our leisure and secure the remainder of the province from the burgher's revolt…"

What a stupid fucking plan, Randolph.

It's good that I made you present this to me in private before allowing you to take this to the rest of the Black Eagle Strike Force.

"Claude's expedition will have no means of escape unless they're good swimmers!"

He's trying to bring a little levity to the presentation. I can see it in his earnest face. I know who he got that from! Maybe I'd laugh if his appreciation of the strategic situation wasn't just absolutely awful.

An attack-in-echelon against the Alliance's main column - that's the plan to wrest Grand Duke Claude's expeditionary force from Count Jeritza's province of Hrym.

A province in the midst of a bourgeois revolt, with its principal city petitioning to join the Alliance.

This is Randolph von Bergliez's plan.

I'm sitting here, slumped on Rhea's old throne, just about ready to throw this stupid, heavy crown at him for joking as he presents this mess of a battleplan to me. It's got me nauseous.

I've been feeling nauseous for a few days, in fact.

I should probably see Lindhardt at some point about that.

But the idea of this attack-in-echelon foolishness... No one really understands the Indirect Approach, so they default to this. You should have never given those seminars on Mauricius, my teacher. Every halfwit in Enbarr is reading him now. They'll never understand how you would have only suggested this stratagem under very specific circumstances… like the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Or our sudden strike against my uncle on the Brionac.

That main force of Claude's, which is just bristling with bowmen, can just delete each attacking wing of the army in detail if we follow through with an assault like that. See? I remember. Everything you taught me remains. I'll never forget a single word you've said to me, my teacher.

Of course, this plan wouldn't be complete without Randolph ignoring the fact that this same column is also being escorted by Balthus and his band of Abyssian rogues, that blowhard who calls himself the "King of Grappling" without a trace of irony. He's also got a hero's relic in those hands of his, which Randolph just seems to gloss over.

He was also one of our Black Eagles until...

Oh, I can see his countermeasure. Sure, just send Ladislava to tie him down and then swing around with the Vestra Society Engineers, which will be seconded to the command of Lysithea von Ordelia. She stayed with us, my teacher. I wish you wouldn't have been so comfortable touching other girls, but perhaps I can understand why you became so accustomed to giving her head-pats all the time. That bastard Claude occupied her home province and arrested her parents for treason. I know that she misses you too, so very deeply - but not as much as I do.

Unfortunately, there's not much time left for either of us, so make sure to come back soon, okay?

That said, I suppose this plan of Randolph's must read like a great plan when it's not your own personal bodyguard and household troops that you're feeding into the jaws of certain death. Maybe a more callous me would see that as an acceptable gambit. But this Edelgard knows better. She knows what it means to gamble and lose.

And I'm sick of losing. Every time it happens, it tears more of our dream to shreds. There won't be much left of it at this rate, my teacher.

And this plan… I couldn't even see it work in my wildest dreams. In fact, it's the type of thing nightmares are made of. And those night terror have returned without you to hold me anymore.

Do you want to know the worst part of this, my teacher? The worst part is how Randolph just ignores that little bespectacled wretch Ignatz as well. My Byleth… you protected his parents' ill-begotten, war-profiteering cartel, and look how he has returned that kindness… Your heart should only have been so soft for me. All those who betrayed that heart of yours, and this dream of ours, I'll gladly add their blood to that pool accumulating around my feet. And don't you dare and try and stop me this time.

The rest of the plan…? Hmph. Tightly packed heavy infantry maneuvers on flat, open terrain bounded by the city walls on the left, and rough, forested terrain on the right that puts a hard limit on Ferdinand's ability to bring his Aegir Swift-Strike Riders to bear on either flank. What's the point of arming an entire household battalion with brave lances when you can't actually field them properly?

Ignoring all of the other potential pitfalls, there's also a flying column of Nader's wyverns sitting ten kilometers upriver at the ferry station. By the way, my teacher… I just happened to have introduced the metric system to the Empire today. We're doing away with "Faerghan Feet" and "Imperial Yards" and "Leicestershire Miles". This new system will be for all of Fodlan.

But this plan… It's awful. Truly. It's worse than Hubert's initial plan for the attack on Garegg Mach - and after you pointed out all of the flaws… well, I dispensed with that one rather quickly, remember? That night on the Pegasus Moon...

But Randolph.

Byleth... you warned me about him.

I'm sorry for not listening, my love.

I'm going to try and fix this.

So please come back - right now - and just do the thing where you put your hand to your chin and nod and make cute little angry suggestions to me, like that day in the training grounds.

I won't overreact this time, I promise.

I'm going to read that entry tonight.

Unless you come back to me, that is.

Then I'm never going to read that diary of yours again because I'll never let you go.

You're just going to have to endure me clinging to you forever and ever.

Like I did that night...

"-Your Majesty?"

"No, Randolph."

Caspar's uncle has a look that I would consider "Deer in the Carriage-Lanterns" on his best day, but now that expression overtakes his entire being. His neck shot up to attention so quickly that his slicked-back blonde hair jostled from its hold and fell into messy forehead bangs. They rather remind me of someone's, but I won't dare utter his name now, even in the relative silence of my mind.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty?"

"I've decided to promote you to Castellan of Garegg Mach. You're relieved from field command, effective immediately."

"Your Majesty… that does not sound like a promotion…"

If his sister Fleche wasn't such a wonderful partner for tea, I'd send the two of them packing to Fort Merceus.

"Your rank will be elevated to Lieutenant General. I plan on conducting the war effort from here on a more permanent basis, so I will be transferring a sizable garrison for you to command."

Hubert, who has been silently at my side with a rather consternated expression throughout this audience, finally can resist no longer.

It's fine. I intended this comment to provoke him, after all.

"Lady Edelgard… we should not be conducting any further military or political affairs from Garegg Mach. We discussed the necessity of returning to Enbarr just a few days ago."

"Absolutely not, Hubert. Now summon Caspar."

An eyebrow shoots up.

"I beg your pardon, my Lady?"

"Bring me Caspar. That is an order." I repeat, finally meeting his gaze.

"Of course..."


I regained a more firm hold on myself following the audience with Randolph after gulping down some tea in Rhea's old drawing room. In this room, I've laid out a great map of Fodlan where I can dream about future campaigns. It offers me such comfort to stare at this map and remember the wild sketches I made with Byleth during those halcyon days in Enbarr during the Pegasus Moon. Three weeks where it was just us and our dream.

I wouldn't trade those days for the entire continent, now.

But, there was a legitimate reason why I asked Caspar to finally emerge from his den in the Knights Hall. Lately, he's modified the space down there into a sort of home-gym. I rather like some of the modifications, even if the decor he's added from Gronder strikes me as a bit gauche. Their tastes are still very much in the Rococo period there.

Anyway, I remember something my teacher said just before the mock battle. Even he sometimes committed oversights.

For example, if he had merely told me that he was madly in love with me the night we met, I would've told him everything and shared this dream with him from the very beginning. Imagine what we could have done!

In any event, on the afternoon of that mock battle, he made a slight oversight.

And it was Caspar who corrected him, in a rather blunt and silly way.

Frankly, I cannot remember the exact details of the affair. It was a trifling thing. But I do remember my Byleth saying "you've got a good eye, Caspar" - or something like that. It was the first time I ever heard someone compliment the younger Bergliez. I had certainly never done so before. You should have seen Caspar's face when my teacher uttered those words! It was like the world had stopped turning on its axis.

And ever since, I noticed that my Byleth would sometimes consult Caspar on matters of an obtuse or difficult nature. To speak truthfully, I wish he would have consulted me with everything - but I suppose it's only right for a man to have other man-friends. And I certainly prefer him speaking his mind to Caspar instead of someone like Hubert, who knows altogether too much about me.

"Um, Edelgard?"

Oh, Caspar has arrived. He has a pained expression on his face.

"...I get that Uncle Randy's plan wasn't that great, but… why are you asking me here?"

The two of us make our way back into Rhea's throne room where Randolph's awful, terrible, battle plan is still stuck to the rolling blackboard.

"What would you do if you were in command, Caspar?"

He looks at me as if I've gone completely mad.

"Uhh, do you really want my take, Edelgard?"

"Yes, I do." I say without a moment's hesitation.

Caspar stares at the map for a long while. Ten minutes pass, I think. I'm content to give him ten hours if he needs it. Figure it out, Caspar - I know you can.

At last, he turns to me.

"Hey… Edelgard…?"

"Yes, Caspar?"

"I'm just thinkin' here, and feel free to tell me to shuddup, but do we even have to attack Claude? Can't we just wait for him to attack us?"

This, I have to admit, catches me by complete surprise. Caspar doesn't want to attack?

He then points to the Hrym Highway.

"I mean, if we just block this road that he gets supplies from, we could get Claude to attack us right? There's even a really good position right here, on that ridge."

His finger drags to a point that's nearly off the map due to its extreme northeasterly position.

"I kind of know that place. My dad used to take us hunting there when my brother and I were little. Our family has had a hunting lodge there for like, forever. Uncle Randy probably doesn't know about it because our pop got sick right after he remarried."

I stare at the ridgeline. That ridge actually is the border between the Gronder region and Hrym. From what I can see, it offers a great vantage point over the Hrym Highway, and the hastily built ferry crossing where Nader's force is encamped.

"So.. you're suggesting a sort of indirect siege, is that it?" I ask after assessing the new information offered.

"I mean yeah, I guess if you want to call it that. I'm just thinking we can do what the Professor did with Garegg Mach. Sit and wait, and then defeat each team separately. That Nader guy would have to try and attack to relieve the city like King Dimitri did. They get all their food from Gronder, after all. My brother's been pissed about losing so much money."

That does sound an awful lot like Caspar's pathetic wastrel of an older sibling - the current Count Bergliez.

I'll see to fixing that soon, too.

He then drags his finger back to Claude's encampment outside Hrym.

"Once he's done, we can just swing around and face Claude. He'll have to attack, right? Otherwise his troops can't eat. And uh… that Ignatz guy couldn't touch us because he'd be stuck behind the walls, too."

I find myself staring at Caspar for a long time.

Not in a "my teacher said something cute" way, but in a "wow that's a really good idea" way.

"Caspar, I'm putting you in command of the Black Eagle Strike Force, effective immediately."

He smirks. Why is he smirking?

"Are you suuuuree about that Edelgard?"

I put my hands on my hips. Why does he always insist on teasing me!

"Yes, Caspar, I'm sure."

His smirk then fades into a look of resolve. He points at the little map markers of the various commanders. In what little remains of my spare time, I've taken to drawing little miniature portraits of each of the Black Eagles and sticking them on the tacks. It's a hobby I find quite enjoyable.

"Hey Edelgard, is that one Bernadetta or Yuri?"

Tactful as always, Caspar.

"It's Yuri, Caspar! Bernadetta's hair isn't that long!"

He recoils.

"Well, I mean she's been growing it out!"

I turn my nose up at him.

"Anyway… can I switch out Yuri and Lysithea with Jeritza and Bernadetta? I think I'd want her Varley Archers. Yuri and Lysithea are cool and all, but we have Jeritza if I need to just one-shot an archery battalion. He can probably take a few shots too."

"Fine."

"Hey, Thanks Edelgard!"

I must say, I rather like Caspar's plan. It's perhaps a bit conservative compared to my Byleth's, but it's quite roundabout, like he always advised us to be. It's the type of plan I can send Caspar off with and not lose sleep over.

My teacher always relied on Caspar to be the "big bro" to protect Lindhardt, Bernadetta, and the other mages we've recruited along the way. And he was always so dedicated at doing so. He's come a long way from those early days at the academy.

I trust him, my teacher. Just like you wanted me to.

See, so come back now. I've grown a lot too, right?

My responsibilities are clear to me now. I can't let Randolph march the Black Eagle Strike Force and five thousand members of the support battalions into a massacre. Caspar's plan… I will put my full faith behind it.

He will protect them. I will protect them.

They won't die, my Byleth. I won't let them.

Because I know you won't let me. That when I turn the corner one of these days, your stupid blank face that I love so dearly will just look at me. Maybe you'll smile, like you did during the Pegasus Moon. And then I'll start crying even though I told you that I didn't want to cry anymore.

Come back and see me cry again, my Byleth.