Greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling when I open my eyes, I blink repeatedly and make an effort to consider what brought me to the equally unfamiliar cot where I currently lay. But… I can't remember. So I choose to take stock of my surroundings instead.

Realizing that the ceiling has the same speckling as the one in my father's office, I deduce that I must be Manuela's office-slash-infirmary. With some effort, I'm able to lift my head and notice the afternoon sun peeking through one of the windows.

I sense an incessant rattling in my chest, and take note that my breaths are altogether too short and halting for my preference.

Sothis, I think, is snickering at me. Pushing that perverse little gremlin to the back of my mind, I return to my analysis. Curiously, there are a pair of eyes staring with concern into mine from a nearby chair as soon as my erratic vision tries vainly to focus in on them. Have I been drugged, I wonder? The irises themselves are an ember-colored orange – which admittedly is a bit strange to me.

I guess I was expecting them to be purple…? That was probably quite stupid of me, but I do take some comfort in the fact that such an impression was brought on solely by delirium.

"Ah, Professor – you are aroused!"

Correction: I am not aroused.

Squinting, I make a wild guess based off the voice:

"...Ferdinand?"

Once my eyes finally adjust to the light, I see that I'm correct.

There is a large bandage wrapped around his head, masking his orange hair. Perhaps that is why I did not recognize him as soon as I opened my eyes. In spite of being concussed, he seems quite chipper – although his recent improper use of vocabulary makes me think he might still be feeling the ill-effects of being thrown head-first off a horse.

"Hubert brought you here shortly after I came to my own senses! I have been recovering from a training ground accident, myself. It is good to know that we push ourselves to the limit!"

I nod.

"I'm quite glad you agree! Someone will have to, Professor… as Edelgard is quite incapable of doing so. Have you considered replacing her with me as House Leader yet?"

Before I can formulate a reply, a yawn overtakes me.

There's a lot to unpack there. What gives him the impression that Edelgard is impotent? Incompetent? Was Hubert even at the training ground? Shouldn't he have been preparing to leave for home? As I find myself asking these questions, my head begins to hurt. That's a nice change of pace, I suppose – given that it's my chest which usually does all the barking.

"...Do not strain yourself in thought, Professor! Doctor Manuela has apparently given us both intravenous sedatives of some sort."

…Is that even safe?

My head aches again, so I stop asking it further. Looking towards my desk, I see several pieces of mail that are laid out on a night-stand next to the bed.

"Hubert dropped off your mail as well, Professor! It is a shame his talents as a batman are wasted on someone as thankless as Edelgard. If he were my retainer, we would have united the continent diplomatically long ago!"

I suppose that's the sort of thing you think about when you're a noble?

Or maybe Ferdinand and I are just vibing like a couple of Derdriu junkies when the junk from Morfis docks with all the controlled substances. Holst was quite an aficionado of the poppy nectar from there.

In any event, uniting the continent diplomatically sounds like a lot of work. Just imagine the amount of dialogue that would need to be spoken – I'd imagine between 150,000 to 200,000 words at the very least, or something like that. Outright conquest seems like the easier path.

I'm about to tear open the envelopes before realizing that most of them have already been opened.

…Did Hubert read my mail?

Shaking my head in disbelief, I grab the sole wax-sealed letter of the bunch, which carries on it the double-headed of Adrestia:


Professor Eisner:

Following your accident at the training grounds yesterday afternoon, Lady Edelgard was quite insistent on reading your mail the following morning. This was a bit whimsical of her: I am alerted to the contents of all your communiques before they arrive, and did endeavor to inform her of this.

Her Highness did not take up my offer, however, and asked for the key to your dormitory instead – one which I cast a mold of shortly after you arrived. Understand that only I took this liberty in case you ever tried to take Lady Edelgard into your room and attempt to deflower m'lady on a drunken night-crawl. With that in mind, know that I've bribed everyone you can possibly report this act to within Garegg Mach. You have no recourse, legal or otherwise against it.

Returning to the mail, she appears to have delicately opened each letter, read its contents, and then attempted to make it look as if she didn't – by gently returning the missives to their envelopes and sloppily attempting to reseal them. As you can see, her skill in subterfuge leaves much to be desired.

The intent behind granting you this information is simple: I would appreciate it if you made a stink about her opening your mail. Doing so in your terse and inelegant way would be best, within reason. She quite haughtily stated that you would never notice this happening, I should note. In credit to your own abilities, I protested this. Lady Edelgard then started blushing and replied that she could get away with such things in the future if caught anyway – because she is your House Leader and that you, as "Her Teacher" naturally "defer to her" regardless.

I would ask you to stop filling her head with such obscene nonsense.

Obviously, you can understand what a profoundly destructive and stupid sentiment that is for someone who will have to rule with absolute power one day soon. Additionally, I suspect that she needs to be reminded that I am in fact her spymaster, and that I can turn that millstone forward as well as backward for her benefit – this is a gentle reminder of that fact.

There will be a reward for your efforts if you do this.

Additionally, please accept my apologies on her behalf for any consternation her most recent attempt on your life has caused. I do this because you are quite well aware she would not offer them herself. Such is her way.

That said, if you so choose, you can trade classes with Hanneman up until the end of this month. There are provisions for that, of course, and I can put them in motion with Cardinal Seteth if you so desire. Prince Dimitri has also been notified and approved enthusiastically, citing a desire to avenge the suffering wrought upon you by the "monster" I am sworn to serve.

Lady Edelgard will not need to know until the decision has been made. I did not approach the Deer because I cannot imagine you taking up that offer.

Tangentially, I do believe she will attempt to monopolize your time with an invitation to Celica's rather soon – perhaps on Sunday after you are fully recovered. Be warned that even in my absence, I have arrows aimed at your back should you attempt anything untoward. They will be more accurate than Lady Edelgard's, but their target remains the same.

Finally, a suggestion: mineral water and espresso make fine substitutes for alcohol and fruit juice.

Your Student,

Hubert v. Vestra


Kid,

Heard Princess necked you on the training grounds! That happens to be the first place I went necking with your Mother – so I guess history is repeating itself. Go figure.

In other news, it turns out one of the Kingdom's nobles has issued a levy mobilization order.

That kind of thing… well, it's not something that's done lightly. If you get any tidbits from the Crown Prince, post a letter to the North Oghma Watch Station. I'm heading out there today.

Drinks are off tomorrow, but I should be back in time for your march to Zanado. Make sure to tell me what the Princess gifts you for St. Macuil's Day.


Professor Eisner,

Claude von Riegan reported to me that you availed yourself as a target practice dummy yesterday and offered the students tincture-tipped arrows to fire upon you with. Are you aware that your seminars are gaining a reputation for devolving into grotesque spectacles of self-harm?

Cease and desist with this pedagogical method immediately.

Understand that adolescents are very impressionable.

To put a finer point on things, my adolescent sister will be arriving soon as a part-time student, and if she witnesses you do such a thing and a similar impression is left, I will close off your "lecturing organ" in such a vice-grip that you will find yourself struggling for air like a fish out of water.

I hope I have made myself clear.

Finally I wish you a speedy recovery, and would remind you to actually submit the group activity forms next week. For today, I have the two Deer who instigated yesterday's escapade cleaning the stables in your class's stead.

Dutifully,

Seteth


After reading these letters, the events at the training grounds return to my consciousness with full force. I even feel the pain in my neck, in spite of me dropping painlessly the day before.

"...I couldn't complete the lesson." I look up and state.

Ferdinand stares back at me intensely, as if he is attempting a very complex mathematical equation that was just assigned to him.

"...Professor! You look heartbroken!"

I don't have a heart, Ferdinand. Not particularly willing to tell him that, I just shake my head.

"Please, allow me to console you!"

Ferdinand wraps me another bear hug – similar to the drunken one he gave me on his birthday. In some respects, he is probably quite drugged out now, based on his comment about Manuela sedating us. As he does this, I notice that from over his shoulder, Edelgard has arrived with a piping hot tea kettle in left hand, along with two mugs clasped together in her right.

She's also glaring. Not at me so much as she is the back of Ferdinand's bandaged head – but glaring all the same. When I lift a hand to wave at her, her expression seems to soften, but not by much.

"...I brought you some tea, my teacher. But clearly, you're quite well looked after…"

Looking at Manuela's Cuckoo Clock, I notice that it's 2:45 in the afternoon. She must have gone to the dining hall straight out of class and not bothered with lunch. If she want's Hilda's curvaceous figure, she'll probably have to eat more. I'm worried for my student's health too, of course.

Ferdinand breaks the hug and turns to his House Leader.

"Ah! Edelgard, I see you have arrived as well – how thoughtful that you have come to serve us!"

Even with my somewhat meager depth-perception, I can see her brow furrowing.

"I didn't come to serve you at all, Ferdinand."

We both observe Edelgard walking over to my bedside and taking a seat next to my nightstand, by the window. Placing down the teapot and two mugs, she avoids all eye contact with her classmate, which does sink my mood a bit. Ferdinand turns back to me with a pained expression.

"How unfortunate, Professor. As you can see, Edelgard will be completely lost when she ascends the throne. Please do consider assisting me when her disgraceful administration causes issues."

There is nothing I'd rather do less than get involved in Adrestian politics. Unfortunately, my students are Adrestian and seemingly very interested and involved in Adrestian politics.

"...I'm apolitical." I reply.

"You're going to make a big mess of her feelings again!" Sothis warns me.

"I didn't ask for advice this time."

"Phooey! You think I am not omniscient…? I warned you about the trapping one."

Trapping One is... Claude...?

"By calling me a fool?"

"Yes –! and I warned you that trusting the girl was ill-informed as well. But look at what you did!"

Sothis was gushing over her yesterday in the face of the Deer's treatment of her, so that reply is surprising. She really needs to make up her mind about Edelgard, because the two of us having a tumult of feelings about her is going to tear a hole through my torso at this rate.

"You said you liked me protecting her."

"I was merely stating that I feel quite strongly about that girl…! I didn't suggest trusting her!"

"...How can you protect a person that you don't trust?"

Sothis – the eternal, omnipotent, omnipresent – offers no reply. My student does, however – but to my lack of consideration on her behalf instead of that unspoken existential one.

"Hmph. I see now that I should not have expected your defense of my work ethic!"

Getting lost in those purple orbs of hers, I realize that I must have wounded her in some way. As if I'm somehow supposed to protect her more vigorously against her own classmate than the Deer. I wonder why that is?

Ferdinand breaks me out of this contemplation:

"Professor – your casual disregard for the nature of Adrestian political life is precisely why I wish you to meet my father, the current Duke Aegir. When he retires, it is my plan to split the positions of Chancellor and Prime Minister. You see–"

Edelgard's eyes are now firmly affixed on the Heir to House Aegir. The pain behind them is still there, but the mild agitation has now flipped towards the barely-concealed anger side of that spectrum.

"Do you intend to speak of your plans for Adrestia without even considering my views on the matter?"

Ferdinand nods quite genuinely, and then turns back to me.

"Indeed. At any rate, Professor–"

My student clears her throat, cutting him off.

"...Well, I suppose it is my duty to my father, the Emperor, to listen to whatever palace intrigue you're plotting."

She seems to hold her old man in rather high esteem – and yet – just in my limited conversations with Hubert and Ferdinand… plus that whole business with Fallstaff… I'm not sure if he really is worthy of that. Then again, she seems to hold me in some esteem as well... so I suppose I'd best leave any critique for Papa Hresvelg well alone lest I invite any on myself.

Ferdinand endeavors for my attention, saying:

"Professor! Please ignore her, as Edelgard's input is usually needlessly critical and irrelevant to the real issues at work within our government. My father, the current Duke Aegir, unfortunately has had so much responsibility thrust on him... by her father... to the point where I have a sincere belief that the Empire is in need of overdue reform."

That's quite a bold statement to make. Particularly when he's supposedly a vassal to Edelgard's father. But I keep getting the impression that the Emperor isn't particularly Imperial. Is he ill, I wonder? That would explain why he has a regent, I suspect. If so, to take advantage of a man in such a state seems unforgivable. I start to sense why Edelgard is so protective of his legacy, not least because she is also his legacy, too.

Speaking of, she presses on Ferdinand's bold statement, well… equally boldly, herself.

"...Naturally, Duke Aegir never had any ambition at all, of course – is that not right, Ferdinand?"

The heir to House Aegir contemplates this query for a time, and then replies to me instead of the inquirer:

"Professor, it is my opinion that ambition comes not from an innate desire… but from people's response to conditions thrust upon them. My father simply responded to an emergent crisis. While his response was at times disgraceful, that was merely a product of circumstance. Nevertheless…! That is why I believe I can fix things. I have had much time to consider the complexities required to repair Imperial administration from the top down."

Honestly, I've got no idea what any of that means. The Eagle seems to have cut his beak on politics instead of warfare, which would explain why he's got his bandage wrapped so tightly around his noggin. Perhaps catching my drifted gaze, Edelgard leans in and whispers:

"My teacher – please note the irony that the fellow with a concussion would be claiming how to fix anything, let alone Adrestia…"

Turning to her, I notice she's scooted over her chair directly astride the side of my bed.

"Noted." I reply with a raised eyebrow.

Her smirk tells me that she's notched herself a win on that one. My ginger lancer seems quite offended.

"Professor – you have not heard my idea yet!"

"I'm listening." – I am, of course.

"Thank you! And that is precisely why you would be most suited for my plan." he replies.

"Please get to the point, Ferdinand." my student says, tapping her boot on the floor for added gravitas.

Ignoring Edelgard's baiting, he takes a few moments to gather himself confidently on his own cot.

"Due to various political crises, the responsibilities of the Imperial Chancellor and the Prime Minister were merged…"

Looking at Edelgard, I hope that my eyes are smoke-signaling the need for translation.

"...The Chancellor is the supposed Voice of the Emperor, who speaks to subjects on the Emperor's behalf, while the Prime Minister sets executive policy. Both of those roles are filled by Duke Aegir, unfortunately."

Ferdinand nods approvingly at her description.

"Well, it appears that Edelgard at least knows a little bit about the throne she's destined to sit on."

At this, she shakes her head bitterly.

"I know all too much about it, in fact…"

There's a story there, but I suspect I'm going to have to really get my knees in the mud to extract it. I may have to endure a few more slaps as well. Or axes to the head. Or arrows to the… neck, was it? Or was my father just using a turn of phrase?

Healing magic makes it impossible me for figure out where the actual wound was, as I don't remember where the sensation of impact was.

It could've been my chest for all I know, since it's the only place likely to hurt.

My Red Lancer attempts to rouse me from my contemplative state with a wave before saying:

"...In any event, Professor! It is my intent to split these two responsibilities when I eventually become Duke Aegir! I believe that the responsibilities of both positions are simply too vast for one individual to maintain. I worry that it has led my father down a terrible path."

A familiar voice pipes in from beside me:

"...He is certainly a disgrace. Among other things."

I keep my vision on Ferdinand who is now talking while moving his hands around very demonstrably. This really is his bread and butter, – which again makes me wonder why he's here. An unlucky hit or two and he'll get all this theoretical knowledge brained out of him.

"As I'm sure you can see, Edelgard's commentary is a clear enough reason why she would be a most disgraceful Emperor as well. That is why I wish to propose to my father that we ennoble you, Professor – as you are crested, even though its make is unknown – and that he pass on his responsibilities as Chancellor to you."

That's… flattering, I guess? To be expected from a brown-noser. I struggle to see why he just thinks he can appoint me chancellor though.

He must be concussed.

"Voice of an Emperor". If I ever get a four-word title that airy... no, best not to think of it.

To my pleasant surprise, Edelgard has powered through his personal dig and is clearly gauging my expression for a reaction, but my blank stare does it usual work of supplying whatever the reader wants to behold in it.

"...My teacher would never participate in a plot against me. Tread carefully with your own, Ferdinand."

She looks at me rather pleadingly – and neither of those two statements were said with much confidence. As if she was bluffing on both. And, perhaps… the lack of trust that she gave me in that regard was somewhat painful.

That pain suppresses any desire to confirm her statement.

"The Imperial cabinet can simply overrule the Emperor in an appointment session, Edelgard. If my father assented, it would be done."

At this, I have to clear my throat.

"Keep me out of it." I say, shaking my head.

Ferdinand then does exactly the opposite of what I asked, much like his rival is wont to do.

"Yes, you do not hold back on your disinterest! That is why I believe you would be so well-suited for the role. In my view, Adrestia's decline was caused by the politicking of previous Emperors, including Emperor Ionius, Edelgard's father. The future of our Empire lies with people who have no background or taste in such affairs, so long as they are noble. That is why I wish to practice in war, Professor."

My student stiffens in her seat.

"...I would challenge him to a duel on behalf of my father's honor... if Ferdinand was not already so pathetically bested on the field two days prior."

My Red Lancer tsk tsks her in a manner that reminds me of Claude. This situation, of course – is starting to bear some resemblance to the situation on the training grounds, too. But I'm left to wonder if this isn't actually just Edelgard provoking reactions from everyone around her rather than the individuals themselves ganging up on her.

In effect, I'm pretty neutral here, and was leaning towards her side of things until a moment ago when she decided to stick a knife in my back and reveal that she didn't trust me at all. I'm not the one reading her damn mail.

"...Her attitude is why I believe we will need a Chancellor who can take on the role of public-relations specialist. I think you would be best suited to communicate Edelgard's vision without inviting another intervention by the nobility."

Ferdinand, your head is broken. That's what I want to say.

"No."

Edelgard looks as if I've offended her terribly – in spite of her protesting the idea of Ferdinand doing this from the very start. There's simply no pleasing this woman. To use a Linhardtian analogy that I heard him mention in passing to Caspar on the campgrounds – it's as if you're throwing a stranded flying fish into water, and after fortifying itself – it leaps back out and bites your hand.

I think he was also using this in regard to some order that Edelgard barked at him, so the analogy seems even better in that context.

"M-my teacher…?"

Nope. That won't work this time.

Ferdinand also looks rather bothered at my denial – but I can at least make sense of the logical sequence behind that:

1. Ferdinand wanted me to do something.

2. I declined.

3. He is unhappy at the denial.

The Edelgardian sequence has gone through the following developments:

1. Ferdinand wanted me to do something.

2. Edelgard did not want me to do that thing.

3. I said "no" to that thing.

4. Edelgard is now surprised and offended that I didn't do the thing she expressly didn't want me to do.

How do you win with a woman like that? This is not a rhetorical question given my current mind-mate.

"Sothis…?"

"You shouldn't be asking a woman about another woman's heart."

Again – the Omniscient One has forsaken me. If the Deity in my head was someone like Sylvain, I feel like I could at least get reliable advice right now.

That said, a young man's heart also seems rather torn up as well. The Heir to House Aegir looks like I've killed a kitten of his.

"...Professor – why not?"

Tilting my forehead into my hand, I try to release the tension building up there. These two are worse than Hilda and Claude when they go at it – because at least I know what's coming down the pike with those two.

"Hmph. Your response is insufficient for me as well…!" says the last person in Fodlan who should be telling me that right now.

At times I wonder if she ever introspects - but I only started introspecting a month ago, so I suppose I can't really blame a seventeen year old princess for not being introspective.

Pulling back the hand from my hair, I simply stare at her. Those lavender irises dart back and forth.

"...Was it something I said, my teacher…?!"

And all the ill-will melts away in that moment. Damn her.

"You threw yourself in front of TWO axes for that girl." I'm reminded by the girl who turned back the clock on both of them. One to avoid, and one to take, amusingly.

Ferdinand, meanwhile, appears to be getting a divine revelation from his own Sothis.

"No… I see, Professor – it is perfect…!"

My student and I stare at him expectantly while he stands up rather shakily and begins to pace.

"The answer lies in your reaction to what Edelgard said!"

I stare at him blankly.

"I fail to see how his frustration at me is perfect…" Edelgard states in a rather agitated fashion.

There's no need to make any attempt to dispel that impression on my end, I suppose. Ferdinand snaps his fingers.

"...By not taking the role of Chancellor but fulfilling all its duties, you could be like Pan, advisor to King Loog of Faerghus!"

I have to admit, Ferdinand's optimism is kind of infectious. His ability to take my total bewilderment and ambivalence… and actually spin it into a positive quality seems like it may be worth listening to – if only to see how far the thread can travel.

And... as much as Edelgard infuriates me at times – the face that is constantly scrutinizing mine for a reaction is difficult to stay frustrated with for very long. Even now, I can notice her relaxing as my own expression softens. For her to be able to recognize that in spite of how little I emote is… well, I guess I'm shocked that someone's taken that much interest in me. Not that I can really emote that, but the point remains.

Based on Ferdinand's description… Pan's gig doesn't sound so bad, either. If it protects Edelgard and the rest of these very vulnerable but well-meaning idiots in my class – my students – I'd be OK with that. Especially if it means that I won't have to get myself knee-deep in things like "dynastic power politics" or "court intrigue" – two words I recall from Mauricius's biography. Given my adaptability, I could probably finesse that into a decent gig. I'll probably need to find a new job next year, anyway – given how my reputation is at rock bottom here, in part thanks to the white-haired woman sitting next to me.

All that said, I should probably read more into this Pan fellow before choosing whatever path he tried to tread, though. Picking the brains of the various Blue Lions might be helpful as well, considering I have no idea where to start.

"...I see that you agree, Professor. Simply put – reactionary government held by the most virtuous of nobles – a path open to yourself, of course, as one with a Crest – is the answer to Adrestia's ills."

What is a reactionary government, I wonder? Before I can dig into that deeper, Edelgard seems to be up in a righteous fury again. Is she a reactionary? She's certainly reacting extraordinarily to a conversation about something as dumb as politics.

"The answer to the Empire's decline is not to dig our heels deeper into history, Ferdinand…!"

Shaking my head, I realize that I'm probably going to have learn about that detestable science before I can really get these two to talk to one another cordially. Rapidly running out of options and with a tea kettle nearby, I opt to cut through.

Putting a gentle hand on my student's padded shoulder, I ask:

"...Tea, Edelgard?"

Apparently, this took her by surprise, because she turns to me with a face burning as brightly as Ferdinand's hair.

"N-no… there's no need to fuss over me because I'm angry!"

"You like that." I reply.

She clearly does, considering how her cheeks are as hot as the beverage right now.

"S-Still…! You are clearly trying to change the topic because you find it bothersome…"

We're beginning to read each other too well, I suspect. Ferdinand begins to assemble the human centipede again by placing his hand on my other shoulder.

"What manner of tea is it, Professor? My sense of smell is impounded, sadly."

He identifies a similar state that I'm experiencing. Shrugging, I reply:

"I can't smell it either. I think it's because of Manuela's sedative."

Edelgard shakes her head, but to my surprise – she's done nothing to break this weird chain we're forming. Is that a step in the right direction?

"...Bergamot, naturally… I chose it thinking of you."

She says this while also liking Bergamot Tea, I should add for the umpteenth time. Ferdinand, however – is grimacing at the mention of the bittersweet citrus.

"Professor – I would encourage you to explore other options than bergamot, Edelgard's taste is extremely undeveloped for a noble of her–"

She leans forward over my bed and breaks the chain, bringing a white gloved fist to her chin.

"-This is my teacher's favorite as well, actually…!"

The Red Lancer shakes his head and begins to look at me ponderously.

"Someday soon we shall explore superior teas in our free time, Professor. I will have some of the finest tropical fruit blends imported from Brigid – have you ever sampled the coconut? Or– oh, what was its name–"

As Ferdinand rambles, I part the mugs on the cot's eating tray – sliding one in Edelgard's direction.

"S-still, I am fine, truly…!"

Raising an eyebrow, I identify the obvious.

"...You brought two mugs."

Ferdinand clears his throat.

"If Edelgard is going to decline your heartfelt invitation, Professor – I will accept, even in spite of the unrefined flavor of the bergamot fruit! I have heard that you are quite the connoisseur of tea from various locations around the world so there is no need to patronize a cretinous woman like Edelgard. I have been meaning to speak to you at length about such topics, as it seems that we are fellow travelers on the path of tea."

The cretinous woman seems to be eager to apply her budding banter skill.

"Hmph. Well, I must inform you that this was just for my teacher and I. You happen to be interloping on our precious teatime – much like you interlope on the battlefield. Best leave the hard work to warriors."

Again, she's too long-winded for my taste, but I suppose it's in character.

Appreciative anyway, I start pouring the tea into her mug.

"...W-wait! I was supposed to serve you!" she yips.

And then it hits me – I had forgotten over the past two days' tumult.

"...To practice for the Maid Cafe?"

I receive a guilty-looking nod. What's she feeling guilty about, exactly?

"Yes… I was also hoping to gather the Eagles and meet with them tomorrow, if you are feeling better... I have been in communication with the town's tailor regarding materials for uniforms. The textiles have just arrived from Varley territory. Tomorrow is the last day I can rush-order their production in time for the festival."

Is she about to have bespoke clothing made for the Eagles? What a gesture. Realizing how successful she's been at planning this in my absence, how could I ever say no to her?

"I'm impressed by your initiative."

Nodding vigorously, she confirms:

"Of course, my teacher – victory must be ours next week."

She makes it seem like we're competing for something, but that's her nature – I guess. I kind of like it anyway. It's another one of those things that I first found quite troublesome about her… but now I'm beginning to find insufferably cute.

And I mean literally, insufferably.

My chest hurts – but it spurs me forward.

"I'm at your command." I say.

Edelgard smiles and clenches her fists resolutely, as if I've passed another one of her unspoken, invisible assessments. Again, I'm not sure why she's so particularly worked up about what amounts to a school festival. I vaguely remember a childhood celebration of this holiday in Remire long ago – in fact… well, vaguely at least. I don't recall it being a particularly solemn or serious affair.

Ferdinand inserts him back into the conversation next:

"Professor – are you sure you should be entrusting someone as uncultured as Edelgard with the completion of such a storied and important task?"

Is he attempting to imply that a mercenary like me is somehow more cultured than a Princess?

All I can do is shrug.

"Fill me in, Ferd."

I get a sideways glance when I use the nickname from you-know-who.

"Adrestia hasn't won the competition for Best St. Macuil's Day Activity since 1145."

That was her father's class, wasn't it? And Fallstaff's...? I attempt to check with the only other person who'd know.

"...Your fa–"

But she cuts me off with a firm expression and brings an index finger to her lips.

"Yes. But speak no more of it, my teacher."

Ferdinand looks like he's been left out of the loop. Maybe his father wasn't an attendee? I don't recall Fallstaff making note of Ferdinand at all, in fact.

"I wasn't aware of the competition." I note with a shrug.

Edelgard takes a glance in passing towards the hallway before continuing.

"...The church plays no role in it, as it is one voted on by the townsfolk – the church would never acknowledge something as joyful as this on a high holiday. It is similar to the garland flower tradition. It is a something that was done by humanity prior to the existence of the church."

Bringing a hand to my chin, I have to admit that she's dangled a intriguing piece of trivia in front of me. I'm of course interested in the reasoning behind it, but I'm more interested in why my student seems to be evaluating each word I say so closely right now.

"Why wouldn't the church be interested?" I ask, carefully.

"The lives of the commoners are… above their concern, wouldn't you say – Ferdinand?" I take note of Edelgard's pivot there. Again, curious.

Ferdinand, meanwhile, replies matter-of-factly:

"Well, of course – Edelgard… They delegate responsibility for the commoner's welfare to the Crested nobility, as is our duty! The Church's primary concern is with us."

That question was directed at Ferdinand, but as is her way – I suspect Edelgard is really gauging me for a reaction here. Apart from a personal pledge not to burn me alive in Enbarr last month and the tidbit that she's the great-great-whatever-daughter of Wilhelm – someone's champion… A Saint or something, I really don't have much understanding about how she feels about religion.

At mention of Wilhelm, I hear a:

"Hmmmm…."

…From the usual suspect in my mind, of course – but she offers nothing further. Again, the deity deigns not to interfere in her human's affairs.

Reviewing what I do know… given my discussion with Marianne back at the stables last week – this whole Church business seems to be a very serious topic for privileged people.

But it's pointless to try and guess at what my student wants to hear. I'm not a fan of the religious-political-social mumbo-jumbo, and feel rather badly for the townsfolk having their efforts looked down upon and bullied like Claude was doing to Bernadetta and Edelgard yesterday.

…Is Claude like the Church in this case… or is the Church like Claude…? I have no analogy of a Linhardtian variety – so I cut through and make a leap of faith before my student:

"Fuck them, then." I say with a shrug.

I've had my fill of Claudes. I guess the "them" is really Claude-like people, but the considering that there's a Claude in Church territory, the Church must naturally attract Claudes.

And to my genuine surprise, it looks like I've made Edelgard's day. The flames behind those lavender irises burn so brightly – for lack of a better metaphor – they look as if they're ready to burn the whole monastery down in a cleansing flame. She's also doing that neck-down-sweating-blushing-smiling-so-pensively face that rather reminds me of the last time I told the Alpha Buck to go find some other campsite to rut around.

Did I just find out something she likes through my own accord?

I'm feeling rather warm right now. And the pain… well, fuck the pain too. It's well worth it.

Even more surprisingly I appear to have left Ferdinand in a rare state – speechless. What a fantastic little tool in my toolbox. I'll be using this more often, I think.

Edelgard is the first to recover from my statement – and clears her throat:

"...M-my teacher, l-let's return to the topic at hand, the… er—the festival activities, yes. We should do our due diligence in pleasing the Cardinal."

Ferdinand snaps out of his trance, next.

"We must do right in the eyes of the Goddess in victory to make right on such a sacrilegious statement, Professor. Naturally – I understand that you were raised in a state of ignorance – but please endeavor to be tolerant. That is the noble standard."

Edelgard is squinting at the concussed boy's lecture. Still, those were good sentiments I guess – tolerance and standards and such.

"I will seek your guidance in such matters in the future, Ferdinand."

My red lancer seems profoundly stunned.

"Professor – there is no need for such solemnity! We will remain firm friends, regardless of your views. Your constant consideration of my feelings is… well... I am simply overcome."

Ferdinand seems to have tears welling up in his eyes.

"You're both of their teachers now, I suppose...?" Sothis says without much surety.

As if she's struck some inkling of herself that she conveniently seems to have no memory of.

I'll answer the question for her – then.

"Bring it in." I kill two birds with one by saying this aloud to Ferdinand as well. Sothis seems like she needs a hug too. I have no idea if she takes me up on the offer – but the offer remains.

I extend my arm, indicating my willingness to accept another hug. Unfortunately, I realize that the food tray which I pulled out is blocking his access to my upper body. He realizes this too, of course – but seems to find a great deal of resolve in this critical moment of mutual support between the two of us.

"No opening…? Then– I'll make one!" he shouts in a fit of determination.

He immediately charges in, shaking the cot violently and spilling the two mugs of Bergamot tea all over Edelgard in the process. Content in the warmth of comradeship, my neck cranes to her rather slowly. Taking stock of her, there seem to be so many emotions in her face – surprise, pain, frustration – general perturbation… but most predominantly, envy…?

"...I-It's quite hot!" she yells.

Her whole uniform is dripping, I notice. My lack of reaction to her sorry state seems to be ratcheting up her emotions, which are still too tumultuous to describe in great detail. I choose to focus on her nose, which I'm starting to find impossibly cute. That nose of hers is also running, I think – or perhaps tea went up her nose.

The thought occurs to me to ask after her health, but it seems pointless now. She seems ready to go on the warpath. And I'm proud of that – proud of her. Ferdinand rocks me gently and I offer a few comradely back-pats in return.

Realizing that the three of us can share some sort of moment together, I can truly sense that we're on the cusp of genuine accord and true comradeship. There's a name for this, of course.

The Deer have a title for it, I believe… a threesome, was it…? Regardless…

I reach out my hand.

She declines to take it.

Instead, a white gloved palm soars through the air – directly into my cheek.


With Ferdinand confined to bed-rest for another day at the infirmary, Edelgard and I make our way back to the promenade with her wrapped up in my cloak. Naturally, I've been on the receiving end of several glares from her along the way – but I return them all with the blankest of stares. To my genuine surprise, her anger fades with each one, and I take some solace in the fact that I silently walk her down from an emotional cliff with my terribly primitive set of emotive equipment.

When we get to the front steps of my dormitory, she wheels around in boots to me and starts to shrug off the cloak in silence.

"Hold onto it." I manage before she gets too involved in unclasping it.

"Hmph. You failed any attempt at being chivalrous when you spilled the tea all over me."

Shaking my head, I clarify:

"Ferdinand did that."

"You beckoned him over for that idiotic bear hug that he always does with you."

"I invited you, too."

She attempts to cross her arms under the cloak rather demonstrably – but the cloak hides the whole point of her doing that demonstrably. The cape itself nearly falls to her toes and wraps around her like a blanket. There are benefits to being five-foot-two, I suppose. Add this with how frail her frame seems for a seventeen year old, and she looks rather like a ghost.

"...Did you seriously expect me to join you in such a frivolous display…?"

"I did." I reply, confirming this with a nod.

Her chin darts up and she prepares her next quip.

"He clearly has some sort of one-sided rivalry with me." the heir to an empire informs me.

"He does." I grant.

The chin drops a touch, modifying her expression so that it seems less haughty and more accusatory in nature.

"Then why would you attempt to reconcile us without knowing anything about it?"

Without hesitating, I go into my rationale:

"He can't compete and you find that amusing."

This provokes a great shifting of the weight from one foot to another, prompting part of my cloak to drag on the stones. She notices me noticing this, and immediately re-balances herself.

"Hmph. What if I found it frustrating instead…? Anyway, that's hardly a compliment… it's almost like saying I find you amusing."

I'm sure she finds me both amusing and frustrating too. And the two of us... well, we manage.

"I'm glad."

"You say those things so blankly."

I reply with a blank stare.

"I see what you're doing... As it happens, you're rarely amusing to me anymore."

That's a lie.

"You're smiling more." I say.

"Don't be ridiculous! I didn't smile today at all. "

Correction: she smiled thrice this afternoon. I remember each one vividly.

"I'll keep walking with you." I offer.

She shakes her head vigorously in reply after looking out into the distance, where some students are milling about.

"A-absolutely not – if those two Deer see me in this state with you, I'll have to endure their taunts endlessly."

Yeah, I guess I can see that turning into a bloodbath. Nodding, I turn towards the steps.

She doesn't let me leave, though.

"My teacher…"

From where I'm standing, I can see her doing one-last behind the scenes rehearsal of her next line. I'd sometimes see the theater troupes do that sort of thing on the Throat when they ended up too inebriated to remember the lines to whatever bawdy show they were doing. Edelgard is wearing this exact same expression. I'm starting to think the two of us are getting into a rather enjoyable routine – and I say this knowing how rare it is for me to genuinely enjoy things. To follow along the the dramatic analogies – it's as if we're in a satirical duo of sorts.

The routine is as follows:

1. Edelgard dons a mask and delivers canned statements.

2. I riposte with a pithy remark or blank stare.

3. On cue, the mask falls off.

4. Some sort of physical punchline to end the scene

If this was not real, my limited capabilities in literary analysis would lead me to believe that all of this is being written quite poorly. If so, credit where due –number four has been pretty varied lately – at least… axe to the head, arrow to the neck, slaps on either cheek – dagger in hand, et cetera.

But as foreign as all this feels – I might also be coming around on this whole "being her teacher" routine. And I'm not sure I'll ever feel this strongly about it with anyone else. I'm not sure what to do with that sentiment of course – and I expect it will take months for me to figure out where it leads. But I find myself grasping it rather greedily – and I've never felt that way before about anything I've ever possessed, not even my own life. And of course how foolish a sentiment that is– Edelgard isn't mine. She belongs to herself. What a strange notion that is to think as well.

"I believe the sedatives are provoking such thoughts – I am more tired than usual." Sothis supplies.

As that comment crosses my mind, it seems as if Edelgard's finished her dry-run. Her lips seem rather dry, as well.

"...Following our fitting at the tailor's… might I impose on some of your free time tomorrow evening? I'd like to express my sincere–"

Impressively, Hubert predicted that request right down to her literal turn of phrase. He did warn that apologies would kill the mood, I think – or something to that affect. The sedatives still have me a bit light headed.

"...No need." I say.

She's rather taken aback at this. A very violent kick in my chest agitates me forward.

"...Celica's?"

She wheels to the left and sticks her chin up. There are few ways I can express how comical this looks. If I could laugh – I'd almost certainly laugh at it. In that sense, it's a benefit that I'm inhabiting a sort of emotionless husk at the moment because I'd be on the receiving end of a meltdown if I did.

Finally, she asks:

"...Well, for what purpose should we go, then?"

Her eyes seem quite reluctant to meet mine, now. Which is strange, because Hubert indicated that she would feel uncomfortable apologizing. Or maybe – she practiced the apology and is extremely pensive about the path this conversation is treading now. I suppose we both share that opinion, now that I think of it.

"You lost the wager." I note.

She turns her back to me.

"So you wish to rub my face in defeat…? I must decline then..."

Shrugging at the woman who cannot see it, I offer:

"...Does there have to be a reason?"

She completes the 360-degree rotation and turns back to me with a frown – those lavender irises squinting into mine as if I'm really making a mess of things now. Perhaps I am. Perhaps… I prefer it when we're both a mess.

"There must be– otherwise, is it not a waste of time?" she asks.

"You can't stop the flow of time."

"...Neither can you." The only time this woman seems to be alert is when I'm talking with Edelgard. Curious.

"You're also in on the joke." I inform her.

"It was not funny. She didn't laugh either."

"You're amused."

"I will leave you to that unamused girl now."

Unfortunately, the Edelgard inside my head mirrors the reaction of the Edelgard outside my head.

"It's far past time for you to be lecturing." True enough.

"You're improving your bantering skill." I grant.

This prompts a flip of her hair – I notice that quite a few strands stick to her fingers. I suspect this is because she dumped three or four heaping spoonfuls of sugar in her tea, and then that syrupy slurry that she calls a refreshment ended up sticking to her hair when Ferdinand came crashing down.

She's too wrapped up in the compliment to notice me noticing, though – and my chest starts to stab at me when it occurs to me that she's insufferably cute whenever she's complimented. If I can salvage this trip to the bar, I'm going to try complimenting her more – through banter, of course.

"Perhaps I am! Who knew such a power slept within…?"

Seizing the initiative, I suggest:

"Let's work on it tomorrow."

Her eyebrows shoot up – but in amusement rather than surprise.

"Are you seriously proposing that you tutor me… in banter?"

The question is answered with a nod.

"...And where do you propose we do that?"

"At Celica's."

And finally, I got the smile I was looking for. What a fine reward that is. Naturally, Edelgard only grants the smallest possible one that she's trying doggedly repress for whatever reason – but I can see it, and that's enough.

"...Well, since the tailor is right across the street – that would be convenient." she grants.

I tilt my head questioningly.

She wheels again – but at more a forty-five degree turn rather than sweeping 90 and 180 degree maneuvers she was doing before on that right bootheel of hers.

"...M-must I spell everything out for you…?"

Those purple orbs bore into me.

I nod.

She exhales haughtily.

"Y—e—s, then." She spells out each letter in an effort to not actually say yes to me. Again, cute.

I take another step up towards my dorm, curious if she'll let me get the last word.

"Goodnight Edelgard."

She's not done, and leans forward in my cape. I'm guessing her hands are on hips, as there are two triangles poking out from under the cape. The two purple spheres under her brow tell the real story, though. They're blazing with recently added accelerant.

"You're treating me quite shamefully, asking such a thing after drenching me like this."

Shaking my head, I reply:

"You like that."

Her back turns, clearly indicating that she likes that.

"...I'll be cross if you oversleep tomorrow. I am assembling the Eagles at nine."

Again, the oversleeping gossip. It was one meeting.

"Get some rest, Edelgard."

With her back still turned, she says:

"...Sweet dreams, my teacher."

My guess is that she was probably trying to hide a blush.

I was going to end the entry right there, but thought better of granting Edelgard the final word she so clearly wanted. That moment of ours of course – she won – but I'll claim victory in posterity.

Not that she'd ever read this, of course. If anything happens at the Red Canyon or elsewhere… I'll entrust this to Linhardt.

He'll know what to do with it, I'm sure.