I am not fat.

Momentarily crippled by self-doubt, I had to trace my abs to determine that, but after counting all six of them – which I have maintained in perfect order since I was sixteen through a morning regimen of crunches, I formed a suspicion that the information coming from the Progenitor may no longer be divinely inspired.

Sothis, earlier this morning, has accused me of becoming "heavy" by doting on Edelgard too much – as if Sothis is the one carrying me around. This green haired gremlin – it should also be noted – also frequently accuses me of not doting on Edelgard enough.

"It seems to me that you are taking the girl out too much. Most nights, my beloved would serve me dinner and libations within my palace."

Sothis also apparently has a palace now.

My next question was something along the lines of "was your beloved your servant?" and then I receive a flurry of confused insults in reply – which are mostly ignored – because putting on the maid outfit by myself is a hassle and does a fine job of occupying the remainder of my mental energy.

This is not saying that I lack mental energy generally, I should clarify.

I'm brilliant of course – because Edelgard thinks I'm brilliant, and because she is also brilliant and correct about everything, especially when she compliments me like she did the other night – particularly about our brilliance.

So I probably… actually… have a great deal of mental energy – there's just not much left at this moment which isn't already being consumed by Sothis, Patron Saint of Parasitism.

Here are some other pertinent facts – in addition to the first fact of this entry:

1. Today is St. Macuil's Day.

2. Sothis claims to vaguely know who Macuil is, and that he is much smarter than me.

3. It is 8:45 in the morning.

4. Dorothea and Edelgard are waiting outside my dormitory.

5. Edelgard has the keys to my dormitory.

6. Edelgard has also not returned my cloak from last night.

7. Both women are telling me to hurry up from behind the door.

8. Dorothea offered to come inside and help me put my maid costume on.

9. Edelgard declined this, supposedly on my behalf.

10. The Beginning can't be bothered – in spite of appearing in a quasi-physical form.

Sothis keeps insisting that I've gained weight as I flatten out the petticoat, but I inform her that I'm an empiricist now– given that it seems more or less impossible to gain sufficient weight within a day to render these damn red leggings any more uncomfortable than they were at the fitting – in spite of this mysterious "alteration" process that the Black Eagle Maid Force's Bachelorette was talking about.

But eventually – with no help from above or below – I get the rest of the outfit on. The pumps, while garish in their shininess and rather uncomfortable around the toes, follow soon after, without protest. The dress itself has been on for twenty minutes already, and is rather soft – and at least around the shoulders, rather form fitting. All that is somewhat disguised, however, by the frilly apron that reaches above and around, flashing its lace around with abandon all around my clavicle.

It reminds me (vaguely) of the cloak – my cloak – that Edelgard failed to return to me after running off last night after I so chivalrously(?) brushed the ashes out of her hair.

Opening the door with a blank stare, I am greeted by my two students.

Dorothea has a hand over her mouth.

Edelgard has a handkerchief over her nose.

"...Professor, you look like a Princess!" The Songstress informs me.

Both of us turn our gaze over to the Princess.

My Student-Princess is no longer looking at me though, and a crimson stain has begun to soak through the handkerchief. Edelgard, who I suppose would naturally be an expert in such things as Princess-ing, is very quiet – and I get the impression that while she may have prepared a response, whatever she sees in front of her has… burnt her plans to ash? Or, something like that analogy.

Turning back to Dorothea with a shrug, I recall that there is another Crown Princess in our class and offer:

"Should we ask Petra..?"

Those eyes so eager to flee mine return in a flash and bore into me with a squint and frown. Dorothea frowns at me as well for this, as if I'm not trying to be considerate of My Student's speechless embarrassment. She replies:

"Professor, how could you say that right to her face…?! Edie's just a bit overwhelmed..."

I get the impression the Songstress just intends to gaslight me all day with those leading questions, so I turn to my student who I recall was very complimentary to me the other night.

"Are you OK, Edelgard?"

The Heir to Adrestia – at least – detects my genuine concern and consideration for her wellbeing. Why is that, I wonder? Is there some quality of hers that allows her to read my utterly unmoved expression better than our Hubert of the Heart? I would say that she might be my own Hubert of my Heart – but I don't have a heart for her to Hubert.

"...I-I…am just feeling a bit light-headed, My Teacher… Truly, I am fine."

Her expression does it's usual softening when I inquire after her health, and I admit my frame must relax a little at this in the doorway, as she seems to take notice of that, her shoulders dipping a little bit as well after the initial rush of agitation.

"I'm glad." and I am.

And so we lose ourselves in each other's eyes for a time, totally ignoring Dorothea's presence, who is just animatedly darting her neck back and forth in my periphery.

"Should I leave you two alone for a little while…?"

My preference would be to say yes – also: you're annoying – but then I realize that I need to be unfailingly considerate and attentive to Dorothea as well – starting tomorrow – to make Edelgard trust me more So I defer to my student, who seems to take my deference very embarrassedly, much like everything else I've said or done this morning.

Edelgard then thrusts the mission brief I mailed her last night that is already crumpled and stained with blood towards Dorothea, who makes no effort to take it from her hand.

I offer to take it from her and she nods resolutely upon offering me the thing that I wrote.

Turning to Dorothea, she says:

"Absolutely not… We must proceed with the completion of all tasks in our mission brief, so that we can claim victory here today. There is no other option."

That sounds more like Edelgard (...Edelgardian?). With that, we set off along the promenade and toward the classroom.


The first male student to see in a maid's dress is Ignatz Victor.

This is because the walk with the Princess and Songstress across the northern end of campus to the quadrangle ends up being a moment shared only between the three of us – with Dorothea informing me that many of the students were at the cathedral for the morning mass. Curiously, Edelgard seemed to immediately lose interest whenever Dorothea spoke about her choir practice, particularly when it involved anecdotes of the church.

My most musically-inclined Eaglette informed me that she would be in the choir for the evening mass, and thus would be unavailable for any post-victory celebration – which of course – I assume there would be because of Hubert's bribing of the townsfolk. Bernadetta, as it happened, would also be in that service, as Dorothea had finally coaxed her into joining the choir club.

When I thanked her for this, Dorothea then insisted that I join the choir club.

Edelgard declined on my behalf.

I confirmed that I deferred to her, which was a relief to the Adrestian Heiress.

Edelgard does not know whether or not I can sing, so why would that be a relief to her?

There's definitely a story there. It always struck me as a bit strange that My Student seems to have no interest in the Church, given how she is supposedly the heir to a very important country that seems to host many… church-friendly(?) individuals, including the chivalrous champion of a Saint or something…? I resolve to ask her about this, but any resolve disappears when we walk into the classroom and Ignatz notices me.

The Deer looks stunned, as if he's met his new muse, which of course must be Edelgard, because Edelgard is brilliant. …Is she my muse? In the same way that her brilliance could prompt Ignatz to paint something aesthetically inspiring, she certainly inspires me to want to kill people – particularly her enemies, but the point remains.

I would often hear the painters in Derdriu discuss such things – they ended up drinking with the mercenaries, because I suspect they were as perpetually broke as many of the mercenaries were. The painters were always cavorting around with the barmaids as well, so I'm not sure what to think of all that.

Does Ignatz cavort around with barmaids like Holst?

Anyway, I noticed Mr. Victor standing before an easel. Around his arm was also a palette, and on Bernadetta's desk he had placed a large, lacquered mahogany box that flipped open and revealed many rows of oil paints in glass canisters. I was no painter, but given the conversations I heard at the bar – oil paints of that sort were quite expensive. Often the painters were forced to choose between the "company of a barmaid for two hours" or this sort of oil paint.

They invariably chose the company of the barmaid for two hours, which leads me to believe that barmaids must have been quite inspirational to them. Perhaps Ignatz then… does not accompany barmaids?

Taking a glance at the easel, I see that it is mostly white, with the exception of Hubert… who is unmistakably painted on it – and fully adorned in a butler uniform, in spite of not participating.

"U-um, hello Professor Eisner – you… are, dressing as a maid…?" Ignatz asks haltingly.

The eerily lifelike Hubert on the easel is watching me…vigilantly… and warning me not to blame this on Edelgard.

So I just shrug.

Ignatz clears his throat and beckons us over to four chairs which have been placed at the front of the classroom under a stained glass window – which the morning sunlight is leaking through. I think the name for this sort of style is chiaroscuro?

"Princess Edelgard, if you'd prefer – I can seat the three of you now and resume painting."

"Indeed, time is of the essence." she replies brusquely.

"You're his patron?" I ask her.

Before Edelgard can reply, Dorothea notes:.

"She's paying him 100,000Gs – can you believe that…?" After telling me this, she starts raising her eyebrows as if I know how money works.

Unfortunately, I have no idea how the art economy scales up in terms of a group portrait, but considering I make 25,000Gs a month – and that there are going to be nine of us in the portrait… no… there's probably no model I can apply here, actually. Four times my salary for eight students and a Professor seems like a great deal, actually.

If I had that kind of money, I'd certainly pay for it, though. My father did once inform me that I did have what is called a "trust fund" – similar to Maya's, in a bank in Derdriu somewhere. Maybe if I have to murder Claude von Riegan someday, I will make a withdrawal of the funds before I become an outlaw.

If I become an outlaw, will Edelgard help?

…Is that even how trust funds work?

I turn to My Student.

"I'm impressed." I say – but I'm also confused. But she doesn't need to know that.

In spite of the compliment, she still looks at me very guiltily – which is fine, I guess. When Edelgard looks guilty, she's usually on the cusp of telling me something very dramatic within the next day or two, so maybe I'll be able to learn more about her.

Edelgard called me brilliant the last time she had a guilty expression on.

That was two days ago.

That was the best day I've had at the academy so far, I think.

"...I… will tell you about this later if we prevail, My Teacher – I promise…"

I nod and then reply:

"OK."

And a relieved-looking Edelgard then goes about assigning seats. Naturally, she and I occupy the center two seats. She occupies the center-left out of habit, I suppose, and then orders me to sit by her right. I feel like sitting at the right-hand of the future Emperor is probably a bit too prestigious for someone like me – but then I realize that I'm in a maid dress.

I… shouldn't question Edelgard's logic about this, should I…?

If I don't defer to her now, what was the point of deferring to her for any of the bizarre requests that I've agreed to in the past week?

So I deferred and joined her.

My Student then gets very ponderous, and seems unsure about where to place the Songstress – but then Dorothea – after staring for a time at Ignatz's handiwork, inserts herself in a standing pose just behind us, standing to the right of Ghost Hubert.

She then hovers her hands over my hair.

"Can I hide my hands in his hair, Edie…? Supposedly that makes the painting go faster – if they don't have to paint the hands, I mean."

"...Absolutely not." she replies.

"...I'm actually quite practiced at painting them." Ignatz says in what seems like a very confident voice for him. He strikes me as a very dedicated person, so naturally I suppose he must be a good painter.

The Deer is currently mixing what looks like ochre and… something else. I'm vaguely familiar with these things because the artists of the Alliance would often request me to model for them. Once, when we were on a rest and relaxation trip in Derdriu, my father had to intervene when I posed nude for some sort of artbook circulating among the leading noble ladies of the alliance.

I recall now that the publication was financed by the Duchess of Gloucester. That is a name I would hear quite often in fact – that she was an unparalleled patron of the arts, particularly of sculpture and painting, and married to a genius noble who was apparently some sort of recluse.

In any event, the painter insisted my presence there was so the salon of Duchess Gloucester could endeavor to appreciate the form of a young warrior, and everyone seemed very insistent on telling me that I was very good at killing people – so naturally I thought my form would suffice. The painter agreed, and noted that the massive scar on my chest and lack of body fat I had (note to Sothis) made me an interesting subject.

They even interviewed me before, and I was told that the dissertation on me would be "light on copy, and heavy on imagery" – whatever that meant.

Back then I rarely replied with more than two-word answers.

Although I guess my last response to Edelgard was just "OK", so maybe I haven't evolved that much as a speaker.

Anyway, I had not informed them that I was a minor beforehand, and thus did not receive payment when I presented my dog-tag for collection. I had previously been told to draw my sword at paymasters who refused to issue salaries to me by Holst, and had opted to do so at this art studio.

This, I learned later, was not acceptable in polite, urbane society. Because of its lack of acceptableness, I ended up spending the night in the city's jail, where I was forced to establish dominance over some local domestic abusers and violent criminals by beating them each within an inch of their life, and then strangling them to death while a detective gathered confessions from their lips.

The prison guard insisted that I did them a favor in spite of me never intending to do them one. Later, they brought me into their station office, purchasing a full dinner of Morfian takeout before my exasperated father arrived to claim me. While I appreciated their gesture, I am still inherently distrustful of jailers as a result of this.

After hearing my side of the story, my father suggested I remain in the bar whenever he had to focus on getting new contracts – but those contracts always ended up being with Holst, because my father had a "no civil wars" rule that he held rather tightly to for whatever reason. And the only other jobs on offer, of course, were fighting in the Alliance's various civil wars. I lose myself in these memories for awhile until Ignatz pipes up from behind the easel.

"...Edelgard, can you keep your eyes focused to the front and not on the Professor – I'm filling you in right now."

From my periphery, I see that she's now blushing. Dorothea "oohs", but I get the impression that it's a very still "ooh". As if she too, has modeled.

I'll ask Dorothea about that sometime. Has she modeled in the nude as well?

That said, I want to help Edelgard. When I was modeling nude, I was told to close my eyes while oil was rubbed all over my skin.

"...Should I close my–"

I'm very aggressively shushed by my student before I can finish.

I thought Edelgard wanted me to talk more?

She's getting nothing but blank stares for the rest of the sitting – because I can't interpret all of these mixed messages. She's worse than Sothis sometimes.

When the Heir to an Empire notices my apparent frustration, she fidgets, prompting Ignatz to look up from the easel again.

Before the Deer can say anything – Edelgard preempts him:

"...It is… quite hot in here, so while I cool down… I must insist you focus your brush on one of the other two subjects." she commands, very Imperiously.

She'll make a great Emperor someday, I'm sure.

Unfortunately however, Edelgard does not cool down because Ferdinand arrives shortly thereafter and makes a mess of her seating plan by insisting that he sit to my right, while that spot was initially reserved in her mind for Bernadetta von Varley.

He then demands Edelgard prostrate herself and apologize to me for putting me through such a humiliation. I reply there is no need, as I defer to her – and the confidence she gets from that – or maybe just the permission she gets from that, prompts her to push him off the chair.

Ferdinand reprimands her from the floor with a long analogy about chairs and floors, their relation to Adrestian politics, and something else that I forget while yawning.


Ignatz is able to finish what he calls the "rough mock-up" of the portrait by 11:30am. Frankly, it looks pretty finished to me, but then he correctly informs me that he still has to fill in the background of the space, and that will have that completed at a later date, as he also has class activities to participate in.

The painters in Derdriu never filled in the background when I was posing, but I do not question this. Maybe the Duchess of Gloucester was a minimalist in her tastes.

In any event, Ignatz speculates that he will have the first copy by the Garland Moon, and he seems to indicate that duplicates will be ready by–

–But Edelgard shushes him.

Still, My Student approves of both Ignatz's work and his estimated period for completion.

"Unfortunately, great projects take time to realize. But for something like this… we shall certainly live to see it come to fruition." My Student tells me.

I wonder if I'll ever participate in a great project?

Looking outside the classroom door wistfully at the townsfolk starting to arrive, I reply:

"...Only if we win, right?"

Maybe making Edelgard happy today is my great project.

I sense a great deal of resolve building in her with each passing second.

"We must and will prevail, My Teacher." I'm told – and… I begin to believe that even if Hubert hadn't informed me ahead of time that he bribed the chamber of commerce, I'd trust her prediction.

Because, for better or for worse, I've decided put my trust in Edelgard.

And – if this goes well – perhaps she'll put some of her own in me.


At 11:45 – fifteen minutes before we jump into the proceedings, I realize that we have no way to brew Hubert's coffee that we roasted and ground. On cue, however, arrives Raphael, who is apparently fulfilling a delivery from Kirsten Logistics' Firm on behalf of his sister. The delivery is quite large, with the box covering most of Raphael's torso.

My House Leader appears ready to bite the Deer's head off for wandering in uninvited, but Raphael quickly identifies me – in spite of the maid-outfit – and shouts me down. I beckon him over to my professorial lectern, which has been wheeled over to the front door and is being used as a hostess's station.

Edelgard, naturally, is the hostess for the afternoon – she gave up on being a waitress after dropping two tea kettles during the morning's dress rehearsal. For whatever reason, after watching her act like a klutz, my chest felt very warm.

Sothis informed me that I should help her clean up each time, which I did dutifully. Dorothea then suggested that I shouldn't be doing such a thing in pumps – and pointed out the fact that she had switched back into her boots shortly after sitting for the painting.

My Student was still wearing pumps, though – and red leggings, now that I realized it… although I guess she always wore red leggings… and so I decided to stick it out with her instead.

I also found myself noting how long Edelgard's legs were, and that she was wearing a much shorter skirt than I was. And then it occurred to me that I thought her long legs were quite beautiful. This is also… strange, of course – because her academy uniform exposes more of her red leggings to me than her maid dress does.

The Beginning then notes that I am not a very smart person, and should be thankful for such a revelation ever occurring. I am thankful – but to Edelgard – not to Sothis, who has very short legs in comparison that I don't think are beautiful at all.

My reply to the Progenitor is:

"Edelgard thinks I'm brilliant."

To which she accuses me of listening to a little girl over her. This is, of course, in spite of her being littler than Edelgard – and in my admittedly dim view of things, much less brilliant.

Anyway, Raphael sets the massive box down and unseals it with his bare hands – which I guess is an achievement when you don't have a sword – which Raphael doesn't – revealing a large, shining copper cylinder coupled with a steam-head and a lever.

Attached to this massive contraption is a note, addressed to me.

My House Leader grabs the letter before I can even reach for it, breaks the seal, reads it first, and then after giving it a once-over, hands it to me while rolling those entrancing purple eyes of hers.

It takes me a long time to drag mine down to the missive:


Professor Eisner,

This item will be the last piece to arrive, and I am sending it directly to the classroom because its projected arrival date cuts quite close to the afternoon of the festival.

What stands before you is a steam-pressure espresso machine, imported from Albinea. It's traditional name is "Vitoria Albinea", but I have custom engraved this one in rubies to read "Vitoria Adrestia" to appeal to Lady Edelgard's nationalistic sensibilities. Please do not fill her head with talk of their navy, as the Empire's finances are quite strained – this she knows already.

The process to create exceptional espresso from this contraption is quite simple, despite its ornateness:

1. Add hot coals to the bottom chamber and wait fifteen minutes.

2. Engage the pressure lock.

3. Crank the lever up and down until the pressure builds sufficiently to cause a piping hot jet of steam to escape from the accessory chamber

4. Add the coffee grounds into the brass filter

5. Disengage the pressure lock

6. Engage the lock again when you have filled the cup

7. Offer the cup to Lady Edelgard, specifically on my behalf, in hopes that she enjoys the espresso.

This machine is a very rare import from the Albineans, fashioned from the purest, most illustrious copper hammered by their royal smithy, and a statement piece which I will re-deliver to Lady Edelgard's room tonight after my arrival at around 10pm this evening.

Ensure that Her Highness has returned to her room by then, as well – lest I am forced to return her myself.

Since she will likely steal this from your hand before you get a chance to read it… please allow me to address her next:


Lady Edelgard, please return to your room before 10pm.

We leave for the mission on the morning of the 24th, and your continued good health is my highest priority.

Your Humble Servant

Hubert


Returning to Professor Eisner:

Please only operate this machine yourself. While you are disaster-prone, you are less disaster prone than the remainder of our classmates.

Finally, I am not one to wish people good luck – so please accept some logic instead, in imitation of your own manner of speaking:

Do not fuck this up.

Gratefully,

Hubert


With just five minutes remaining before the festival's start, the Eagles are assembled at the front door of the classroom. My Student has just finished giving them a pep talk, which really wasn't all that peppy and more threatening except for a very good line at the end that said.

"...I believe that we can bring light to the fog that has followed Adrestia in this competition."

I felt very proud of her, because in spite of everything – I believe that she deeply desires these things to be true in all her endeavors, and not just this victory in particular. And if I could help her achieve that… lighting of the fog or whatever, I'd be content myself.

My contemplation of her nice qualities are interrupted by a very perturbed face belonging to the person who all of those sentiments were directed towards.

Am I doing something wrong…?

Before I can ask that, she asks:

"My Teacher, may I impose on you for a moment?"

"You're not imposing." I replied.

Edelgard is five-foot-two.

At first she frowns at this, and then gets the exact opposite of what I meant.

"Might you be able to follow me to the back of the cla… I mean, Maid Cafe…?"

Her eyes are very pleading but also very demanding – and I find myself unable to say no to either one of those expressions – and certainly not both.

So I nod and follow her.

When we reach the corner where my professor's desk is, out of earshot of the rest of the Eagles, she closes her eyelids – pauses intently, seems to do a little dress rehearsal in the back of her mind, and then fixes her purple orbs on me with maximum intensity, fires behind them flickering as if fueled by an accelerant.

"My Teacher… you must not under any circumstances accept any garland flower crowns from other women this afternoon."

This statement would make sense if a) she had given me one of these garland flower crowns to illustrate what I was supposed to be declining or b) I knew what the garland flower crowns were…

But neither of those are currently true – so I ask:

"...What?"

And she immediately gets flustered. Her lavender irises dart back to the wall-clock behind me, and then back to me, who has raised an eyebrow in confusion in the interim.

"...A-after the clock strikes noon, many of the… female students may attempt to avail themselves upon your hair with white garland crowns."

She is very fussy about hair, so I realize that these garland flowers must be particularly bothersome to her sense of personal aesthetics.

I look around the classroom for a moment and realize the uniformity of the Eaglettes uniforms – even though they are quite different in size and body-type, Petra, Dorothea, and Bernadetta are in identical maid outfits, right down to the black leggings.

Then I realized that I am in red leggings, and so is Edelgard – so none of what I just thought could be true at all, and I needed to re-evaluate.

"Is that so?"

"It is most certainly so ...As a point of fact, they are attempting to… vie for your attention."

If they want to speak with me, all they need to do is ask when I'm not occupied. So I shrug. This is one of those insufficient responses, though – I can tell that because her lip turns down in a fashion that it does only when I've really ruined a response.

So I attempt to salvage things at the last moment by replying.

"You're in command."

And this shores her up considerably. Bringing a white-gloved hand to her chin in her haughty fashion, she replies:

"Well, as your… House Leader… I am responsible for your well-being… therefore you cannot accept them …Are we clear?"

The demands are simple enough: ignore the garland flowers. I would have ignored the garland flowers anyway with her asking – but now I'm starting to vaguely remember the calendar poem about women giving men they like garland flowers.

So now I'm confused. Does she want women to dislike me? She is also a woman, though. A bit frustrated I manage:

"...I agreed already."

And maybe she detects that, because she immediately shifts her weight around and looks on the verge of fidgeting, with her chin darting down.

"...O-of course, I – had more of a speech planned and may have gotten ahead of myself…"

And then I realize that I'm Her Teacher – and we think of each other as brilliant minds, and she should always have my ear for that reason.

"I'll always listen."

Saying this with a profoundly blank stare on my face must seem a bit strange, but she accepts it all the same.

"Well… you do… My Teacher… Hm…"

And then the Adrestian very delicately clears her throat, and I realize that I'm getting my own personal pep talk from her. At this my chest feels quite warm again.

"I had planned on mentioning how your acceptance of such a gesture would also be… particularly unacceptable if you did so while responding to the advances of students in other houses, because you are the Professor of the Black Eagles."

This all seems sound. She continues after another dress-rehearsal behind her eyes:

"… and naturally you have a woman as your House Leader… and if I am not giving you garland flowers at this moment, how could you accept one from another woman who is… not your House Leader?"

A fair point, but…

Do speeches often end in questions? Maybe Edelgard is innovating the form of rhetoric right before my eyes, and I am just insufficiently academic to notice this.

I'm really impressed, regardless.

Obviously there's a lot to unpack there – but I think I can understand the basic contours. If I accepted garland flowers from another student apart from Edelgard – who cannot give them to me, apparently – this would imply that I am effectively disloyal to the Black Eagles. Hubert also noted via letter last week that professors can trade classes until the Garland Moon – although this is quite rare. Still, I suppose it would be rare for a Professor to accept garlands?

I'm tempted to ask what would happen if Professors Manuela or Hanneman offered me garlands.

Can men offer garlands to men?

Before I get too wrapped up in exploring this, I need to make sure I support Edelgard and continue to make sure she knows I always value her input.

"That speech was brilliant."

Edelgard seems to melt at this praise, and I'm very glad I gave it to her, even though whenever she does something like this, my chest hurts terribly. But it has become warmer and warmer lately, so there's that – too.

"Thank you, My Teacher – I had been thinking about it all night…!"

I nod, in awe at her work ethic. Still – I cannot help but feel like she's concerned over nothing.

"But Edelgard, I'm not married."

This turns her as crimson as I've ever seen her. But I can't tell if it's an embarrassed crimson, or an angry crimson, because she's frowning and squinting.

"And I would never allow it – naturally you are too busy teaching the Black Eagles this year!"

And herein lies the issue: why is she getting so bothered about this, then? I bring a hand to my chin to attempt to work through the answer, but this just seems to add confusion to the mix of emotions on her face.

If I could emote, what would be mine?

"...Who'd give me those, then?" I ask, logically.

Edelgard seems to calm down at this and considers my question for a time, perhaps understanding my logical thread that she shouldn't worry about women offering garland flowers if she has no desire to as my House Leader, and especially if I also do not have a wife.

Was my mother my father's wife? I should ask him about this… perhaps this will offer me insight.

Better yet – it seems that Hubert is getting married soon, to a person with no name from Brigid, so naturally Edelgard as a Princess of higher birth is probably already married. So naturally, she must be planning on giving garland flowers to her husband, who would also be the Emperor when she becomes Emperor right?

And while this makes the knife really twist in my chest with the worst pain I've ever felt thus far, I do take some comfort in the logic that Edelgard will have someone to take care of her after she takes leave of me. Although – perhaps I do feel sad at the idea of this – and that is the first time I can recall feeling sad since I've arrived.

And naturally, I wasn't feeling anything before the 20th of Great Tree Moon, so this might be my very first experience with sadness. Still – it's good that I'm feeling sad for her, as she is perhaps the person most deserving of those feelings… because I realize she gave me the ability to feel in the first place. And I owe so much to her because of that.

And I start to feel very complex at this moment – and am unable to find sufficiently illustrative language for this.

On the bright side, I did ask her a question, which she takes the time to respond to:

"...Perhaps persons of ill-repute, which is why you must seek my permission first."

The only time I've heard people calling other people of ill-repute were at bars, and they were usually the barmaids yelling this at Holst for having some kind of sickness that he failed to inform them of before taking them to the Barracks.

Naturally, it must be a noble thing – reputeness, and perhaps this illness is particular to House Goneril.

"...Hilda?" I ask.

Edelgard's chin turns up again in agitation, but then I notice her playing out various scenarios behind a brow furrowed not in anger but confusion.

"...W-whyever would you think of her first...? Would she not offer them to Von Riegan?"

Now it makes sense to me.

"Oh, students can offer it to students."

She nods intently at my reply.

"Yes, under certain circumstances – none of which are applicable to you."

Well, that clears up half the issue.

"So Professors cannot receive garlands." I confirm.

"...Well, there are certain circumstances that garland flowers can be offered to a Professor, but you would have to seek out my permission first as House Leader."

I point over to the white garland crown that Petra is holding at her side. Perhaps if Edelgard allowed the Brigidan to put those garlands on my head, who is also a heathen by Fodlan's standards, we could work out some kind of halfway decent settlement to this issue.

"What about Pet–"

She cuts me off aggressively.

"I have already instructed the Eagles not to do such a thing. Imagine the… impropriety of such a gesture when her House Leader is a woman!"

I point at the white garland flowers that Dorothea is holding behind her back next.

"...I am sure that is for someone else as well…!"

"Oh, good."

"Why is that good?"

"Dorothea and Petra deserve to be happy."

Dorothea chuckles happily in the background, Petra waves - which I take the responsibility of returning, and Edelgard's neck shoots over to the Songstress in utter fright. As friends, they seem to always keep each other on edge.

Naturally I am Dorothea's friend as well, because she also keeps me on edge.

But I feel comfortable and very warm around Edelgard, and even the truly agonizing pain doesn't really put me on edge, as I've grown to expect it.

What is Edelgard to me, I wonder?

At any rate, I know that I'm Her Teacher.

And that's a great comfort to me – perhaps as much as the bergamot-cinnamon blend was for Edelgard last night. I'm glad I made that for her, as well.

In spite of all that, I do still feel like that answer does not get to the crux of things, though… but I also feel content knowing I'm closer to the answer than I was five minutes ago. So I listen to my House Leader's reply with my full attention:

"...N-naturally, Dorothea and Petra are very beautiful and have many opportunities to find happiness with many wonderful men and women, but what does that have to do with us, My Teacher…?"

It doesn't have anything to do with us? If anything – I suspect that your husband should be the one who is most concerned – considering that Hubert is about to be married but still wants to remain close to you as well.

My father made that title sound like there was a degree of exclusivity to it by nature, although I'm still unsure what that entails.

"Aren't you giving flowers to your husband?" I ask.

A white-gloved palm meets her face.

"I-I have no husband at the moment…!"

So why is Hubert in the process of marrying his nameless wife from Brigid, then? Maybe Hubert was pulling a ruse on me.

"...Your wife?" I whisper.

"No, I-I am not considering any female romantic partners currently…"

Oh, but she would. My student always impresses me with her open-mindedness and ability to evaluate people for their best qualities – she's clearly more advanced at it than I am, at least. If I want to open my mind, I usually have to get my fingers closing off a windpipe first.

All said, Edelgard really does deserve a proper response to that, and I run it by Sothis – but it appears that Sothis is taking a Dagdan siesta. So I try my best with courage and determination:

"Edelgard, your perspective is valuable to me, always."

Why does she always look so stunned when I say things like that?

"Thank you My Teacher, truly – but please never mind all of that…!"

Beckoning her to return to the class, she tugs at my petticoat.

"...I would just politely ask that you promise me not to accept any garland flowers until I give you permission."

Our first customer enters.

"Edelgard, let's win." I say.

Claude and Hilda saunter by after I say this, peeking in, and the two of us watch them walk by, chatting animatedly.

"No one will stand in our way." she says.

I was going to reply, but bells began to ring. The competition has begun.