The Heir to an Empire has left me waiting outside the second-floor dormitories for the past hour after demanding that I wait outside – apparently only needing to get something from her room.
I am still wearing the maid dress, having second-guessed the decision to walk back to my own dorm and change out of the clothes one too many times now.
Curiosity did get the better of me fifteen minutes ago, and I took a walk around the perimeter of the buildings to make sure that those bandits under the direction of the Fire-Frill Feather Figure had not infiltrated the monastery and made off with her, as she's a high-value target of theirs along with the other House Leaders.
Of course, I'm sure that Manuela and Hanneman fuss over Claude and Dimitri to the same degree, right…?
Anyway, much to my chagrin – and also to my relief, I could see that there was one room along the second-floor dormitories that had its candles on and curtains drawn – and, after squinting, realized that I could see the shadow of an Edelgard-sized individual pacing back and forth inside. Another clue was the fact that her neighbor – once Ferdinand, now Hubert – had his window padded in black Ochs wool and had an owl cage on his patio, sans Danton, who preferred hanging out in my dorm instead. I bought a nesting box from the carpenter for him, in case he ever finds a wife.
As I thought about these things – it then occurred to me that I was also pacing... and probably looked quite mad doing so on account of Edelgard, who was clearly safe and perhaps thinking about the mission as well. Or Hubert's owl, as I did grant her the right to read my mail.
I trust her situational awareness and would be close enough to intervene back at the staircase anyway. While I walk back, I think about rejection. Specifically, the garlands I rejected because of Edelgard.
First Rejection: Lysithea
The Heir to House Ordelia arrived, very angrily, at 2pm – perfectly timed in the midst of peak chaos – and blew right past an exasperated Hostess-gard. Upon seeing me in the maid-dress, she determined my efforts to be headpatable, and I knelt down to the noble scion to oblige. Immediately after, she began to ask me sharp, pointed questions about whether or not the increased caffeine content of coffee could help as a study aide.
Because I did not study while drinking coffee – or study – or drink coffee – I could not provide a personal anecdote, so I attempted to ascertain her own experiences with caffeinated beverages.
The Deeress told me that tea made her feel at ease – particularly Ferdinand's favorite varietal, the Southern Fruit Blend. She also informed me that she took a typical cup with five spoonfuls of sugar. She failed to demonstrate how sugar and caffeine could relax someone – but Lysithea is no longer my student and I do not feel compelled to press her on such matters. Referring to Hubert's flavor notes, I identified the Blood Orange as a fruit, and asked her if that was anything close to whatever the Southern Fruit blend tastes like.
As it happens, the missing component that Ferdinand had failed to identify in the Southern Fruit Blend that paired with coconut was the clementine, which is among the sweetest of all the citrus fruits – next to Bergamot – whose flavor is not actually sweeter in palette, but sweeter in the sense that it's a preference that I and Edelgard already shared, and one that brought us together on that afternoon in the monastery. One that prompted me, for the first time that I can remember, to think of people as sweet.
Even Lysithea can be sweet – as I remember our evening of eating triple-chocolate layer cake from my breast-plate-plate with our fingers.
When I suddenly inform her that Bergamot is actually the sweetest citrus, she calls me unsophisticated. Lysithea tells me that she knows that Bergamot is preferred only by young people and the minor nobility. She informs me that she was told this by Sir Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, who is of course older than her, is a noble himself, walks upon the path of tea – which she claims she doesn't have the time for.
She then clarifies that she does not enjoy the actual company of Lorenz though, due to his obsession with "useless things" – but is willing to accept his expertise in this particular matter – as I suspect she is quite conscious of anything that would betray her own youth.
That said, Petra is also her age and carries none of these issues. She is currently washing dishes right now, working in a determined, efficient tandem with Caspar.
And… I also quite like Sir Lorenz in our limited interactions in the showers, as we both take ours at around the same time each morning.
He recently gave me a tip on how to attach a flower to a breastplate without needing to pierce it, and I have been mulling over doing that with the carnation that Edelgard presented to me not so long ago. Maybe copying his style would be unsophisticated, though.
Unsophisticated is a great word, and one that feels natural next to sociopath.
And Lysithea really brought it to my attention just now… and always impresses me with her knowledge.
When I was fifteen, I had a vocabulary of about twenty words. I picked up many more after I started killing people... and listening to theirs as they died. Now, I find myself picking up words from acquaintances and the students I'm sworn to protect – and vastly prefer the latter method, although it is far less time-efficient.
After pulling a shot from the lever, I notice Lysithea marvel at the machine with those massive magenta eyes of hers that quite remind me of Edelgard's, except Edelgard's eyes make me chest feel agony and warmth, and Lysithea's do not. The Leicestrian Heiress then asked how Adrestia had gotten their hands on that much copper – as House Ordelia happened to lord over that particular resource on the continent with a near monopolistic control over the metal.
I then informed her that it was from Albinea, and that Hubert had bootlegged it.
Lysithea found this very amusing, and then suggested that the Marquis of Pickled Sausages would probably resell it because of its value, supplying to me a pertinent fact that her family had recently renewed the embargo on copper export to the Adrestian Empire with the assistance of one of Claude's relatives – which makes me wonder if Claude's family is as annoying as Claude is… or at least seems particularly determined to bully Edelgard and her family.
To have five minutes with him with my hands around his throat…
Oh, how he'd sing to me.
Anyway, I was not able to explore any of these topics at greater length, for better or for worse, as this mumbling about metal attracted my student with a glare as sharp as steel.
Edelgard made her way over to us and then agitatedly asked why copper was so necessary for making war, as very few weapons were fashioned from it nowadays – iron and silver being her favored elements for the axe, at any rate. I simply stated that you can't maintain a navy without bronze, which was met with silence. I then asked how the Empire's navy was faring.
I did not receive a reply to this question in words either – merely two squinting purple orbs giving me the don't respond face, in spite of the fact that I was the one who asked the question.
And for a moment I understood what it must be like to converse with me.
Handing the espresso shot to Lysithea, I awaited Edelgard's inquiry, which was:
"...Whyever do you need bronze for wooden ships…?"
"So they can float."
This woman who has absorbed so much of my empty expressions now gives me a perfect Bylethian stare in reply.
"Iron fittings rust and leak." I reply, Bylethianly.
But I had let that reply out of my lips only after watching her at her craft for awhile... and found myself deeply enjoying it, despite my own Bylethian face. Perhaps one day, she'll outdo the master and stare at Hubert blankly in response to some plot of his, or write a one-word reply to someone powerful who she despises... and does so knowing that it will make him intolerably angry.
But then to my surprise, My Student looked momentarily embarrassed instead, perhaps realizing that if there's nothing to hold the wood together, it's just flotsam. Lysithea drives the nail a bit deeper, saying:
"I see your House Leader is rusty too… Why did you choose the Eagles, Professor?"
"Edelgard's as sharp as a tack." I say, which prompts a rolling of magenta irises and a look of fiery excitement in a pair of lavender ones.
I hope she takes the initiative here, because I'm running out of compliments.
My father would often say that one about me when I uttered a very dumb one-word reply to someone when travelling. I never got excited about it… but perhaps defending Edelgard excites me now, although I'm not sure that's a feeling I have a particular understanding about. My Student's question-reply was eight words, but the statement still felt appropriate for the circumstances – and her renewed resolve was great, as I realize that I actually feel very relieved whenever she gets her confidence back after someone else has stolen it away from her.
But I also think I rather like her embarrassment. So I find myself trying to work out the following:
1. I like Edelgard when she is embarrassed.
2. I don't like Edelgard when she is embarrassed by other people, though.
So maybe I can simultaneously protect Edelgard's feelings from other people, while still teasing her a little myself. Maybe I will try that sometime soon, because I do not want Edelgard to think that I am complementing her unduly. She has accused such things as being bad chivalry(?).
In any event – she directed her reply towards me, thankfully – and says:
"I was merely attempting to explore whether or not alternative materials could be used… since the Von Ordelia family seems to be hoarding their mineral wealth for no reason." she goes about stating this academically, but also adversarially.
I'm not your adversary, Edelgard – I want to protect you for as long as our paths align.
And I'm about to blurt that out to try and see her... happy? Or just not looking so angry at me. But before I can, Lysithea huffs and puffs on the espresso after deeming it too hot, sending brown droplets all over my white apron.
"Arguing with you is a waste of my time – you clearly aren't intelligent enough to see the Empire's fault in all of this." the White-Tailed Deer informs the Bald Eagle.
At this point, I have an idea. Waiting for Lysithea to take a sip – much to Edelgard's displeasure, I ask:
"Do you like the Espresso, Lysithea?"
"Hmmm… it's a very mature drink, isn't it?" she says, feeling proud of herself.
This bar is full of children drinking it with heavy cream and sugar like she is – so probably not – but Hubert seems mature and it's his coffee, after all.
So I nod.
"Maybe I find it very challenging and new and worth my time, then. I will need to stay up to learn as much as I can, because Professor Manuela is of no help…." she says, turning her chin up like My Student.
"Do coffee beans grow in Ordelia territory?" I ask – genuinely.
I've only seen "Ordelia territory" once, and it seemed like a valley bounded in between three mountains from the Myrddin highway.
"I'm not sure, Professor – what kind of climate is required for its cultivation?"
"It needs volcanic soil." I say – unsure what the weather in that neck of Brigid is like, but recalling Hubert saying that volcanic soil was a necessary component of good coffee.
"No… it will never work, Professor – my parents own three mountains, but there is only copper in them, and they have no soil on them. My father used to take me hiking before…"
Realizing that the "Are you OK, Edelgard" line may find some similar success with the younger, slightly less Edelgardian and definitely more Lysithean Lysithea, I throw caution to the wind and try it:
"Are you OK, Lysithea?"
This riles up the person who usually has the monopoly-rights on my "Are you OKs" – but I mean, she's also picking a fight with the recipient for unclear reasons.
"I hardly see why you should be concerned for a student who is not yours, My Teacher." my House Leader says.
Is Edelgard mine?
Of course not, and she never could be.
Anyway – Lysithea seems put out and then decides to turn her back to us.
"I'm fine, Professor – it's really not worth explaining, especially in front of Princess Edelgard."
Realizing that I may have an opportunity to unlock a more supportive relationship between these two in the future, I put my brain hard to work at figuring some common ground.
Within four seconds, I think I have it.
"I have a strategy." I tell the two girls.
Lysithea turns back to me with a quizzical but expectant expression. I hold up a finger, and then turn to My Student.
"...Edelgard, trade Lysithea's copper for Hubert's coffee."
"Hm." contemplates the Deer.
Lysithea doesn't seem opposed – but also seems agitated again, perhaps owing to a lack in her knowledge in regard to… what even is this? International Relations… Macro-Economics? Seteth has books on those things that he carries around – some of which he writes – but I will doggedly refuse to consult that green haired… goblin(?) on anything, especially for advice, because he reminds me of Sothis. He even smells like Sothis – or at least whatever I imagine Sothis smells like.
I can think these things without backtalk because I know Sothis is on her siesta at 2pm. I am learning her habits now.
All of this postulating causes Edelgard's head to pivot side to side and reply to me with an expression that is both ambivalent and also… amused?
…Do I actually amuse her?
Or is this a situation where she says that something is amusing and then actually hates it? If it's either of the two first queries that were just laid out, I guess that's good. Anyway, she replies:
"...My Teacher, please do not wander into subject areas you know nothing about…"
This argument would not have happened if you followed your own rule, My Student…
…Still, it's a fair point. I'll leave all this Edelgardian stuff to Edelgard. Because she's brilliant.
But Lysithea is also arguing about it, so could it also be Lysithean…?
Lysithea could also be brilliant, but I'll never know that, unfortunately.
To her credit though, the Heir to House Ordelia responds to my internal rambling without me ever uttering a single word through my lips:
"She has a really bad attitude, Professor – Adrestia would need to apologize to my parents first."
How would an entire country apologize to Lysithea's parents? I'll ask Ferdinand later if the Chancellor can do that, because I realize now that this is really getting out of my depth.
I could theoretically take the Chancellorship for one day, apologize to Lysithea, apologize to Edelgard for taking the job and also apologize for apologizing to Lysithea, and then resign while apologizing to Ferdinand.
I would only need to say six words:
"I'm sorry" to Lysithea,
"I'm sorry" to Edelgard,
"I'm sorry" to Ferdinand.
By the way, my favorite six words in the entire history of me listening to people speak words are "My Teacher, I think you're brilliant…" and Edelgard said them not long ago, and she's about to talk again – although to Lysithea and not so sweetly:
"Hmph. I hardly need to justify my positions to you on this matter... and you seem to have no desire to reconsider yours at all."
Magenta orbs meet purple orbs, but both end up blinking at the same time, perhaps because they both notice me leaning into another espresso pull, prompted by Dorothea silently handing me another order as they argue.
At this Lysithea seems content to claim the day's battle – in spite of Edelgard getting the last word, and turns to me next – I suppose seeing a more valuable use of the time she dislikes to waste:
"...By the way, Professor – you don't have any white garland flowers on your hair. Is it because girls dislike you…?"
The look on her face whenever we talk indicates that she doesn't dislike me at all – and the weird mix of comfort and superiority that she has all over her face whenever I kneel down to accept her headpats like a knighthood means that… if there is one girl who likes me… it must be Lysithea, right?
On second thought, though – I grant it more gravity – because it seems like the entire point of this song and dance by Edelgard regarding the garland flowers… is to make a subtle point that I had not noticed before, and feel very stupid in the presence of these two for noticing:
I'm not worthy of receiving garland flowers.
Especially not from Edelgard, who is my House Leader, and most importantly – the first person who provoked any feelings of mine in twenty-one years of roaming in the darkness, and because of that… the person who I have resolved to put in the care of those very primitive feelings, finding that I only want to express them to her anyway. This diary is just a record in comparison.
And then I realize that she must be doing this in an effort to look after those feelings, and manage my expectations when it comes to my unattractiveness to particular women – especially the women of the Adrestian Empire, who I have chosen to teach, and of course – by virtue, herself.
I will count Dorothea as an exception, because she, like me, is not a noble, and entitled to find anyone she likes beautiful, and I'm glad she has that freedom and hopes she can use it to find someone. Preferably someone who will distract her when I try to lock eyes with Edelgard in her presence for more than five seconds.
Due to my previous one-day gig as a nude model, it's easy for me to understand this when confronted with the subjectivity of aesthetics, a topic I have heard artists complain about over liquor frequently, and absorbed so passively until I was confronted with that painting from Ignatz. The other painter who worked for the Duchess of Gloucester must have understood the tastes of noble women of the Alliance – which is why they're a separate country from the Empire, right?
Choices like nationality and loyalty basically boil down to that, if not motivated by feeling, right?
And because I'm attractive to the women of the Alliance – perhaps Lysithea might find me attractive when she's eighteen or older and can safely and legally feel attraction to me (or at some indeterminate point after eighteen, or not at all). And then I can perhaps endeavor to ask Lysithea for confirmation about my attractiveness.
At that point, if confirmed as I suspect of all Alliance women, I would naturally do the chivalrous thing and point her towards someone who shared all of my apparent qualities when I was her age like… sociopathy, terseness, swordsmanship, and general contempt for human life…
The only person that comes to mind is Felix, but… no, these two would kill each other. You can't have chivalrous love with someone unless you agree about everything, and you certainly shouldn't have children with a partner you disagree with.
Perhaps that's why people who cannot agree on basic things like aesthetics would probably make poor neighbors, let alone countrymen, and especially poor partners and parents. And maybe that too, is why Holst preferred mercenaries, because it's tough to fight alongside those that you share a worldview with, especially if you want to make them husband or wife someday. They might die, and then who are you left with? Your enemy, presumably with opposing aesthetics.
No one would want me as a citizen, let alone as someone with responsibility over a country or national army.
I recall Holst offering me a minor lordship… 8 times, I think… after saving his life on various campaigns. These really weren't saving his life, of course – I just murdered all of the people trying to murder him when he had lost too much blood to weild his glowy-axe thingy… because that ran on blood, I guess?
My father expressly denied that, said Holst was not serious in those offers in spite of taking me to see them twice and said: "you've got a brighter future than that".
In the moment – I just shrugged and thought he meant that County Goneril would be locked out of the sun's rays in the future. Now I realize what he meant – because I suspect I would've never met Edelgard if I became a baronet or a Lord of the Manor or whatever those fat people who beat peasants to death to collect taxes to pay for Holst's mercenaries are called these days.
…While I would certainly have been good at that, and much more toned than the usual crop of minor nobility, it's no replacement for the feelings I've felt this month.
And then everything starts to fall into place... because of that revelation that I only had the chance of knowing through time with her. Edelgard can only speak for Edelgard, and to a lesser extent Adrestia – and is unable to find me attractive by virtue of aesthetic subjectivity between the nations.
While that hurts, it makes a great deal of sense.
In deference to this painful, but useful revelation, I reply:
"I think so, Lysithea."
And a pair of purple eyes – not belonging to Lysithea – signal another don't respond face – but the issue here is that Lysithea is at least attempting to participate in a civil conversation with me.
Perhaps I shouldn't be so generous with my time, but... Lysithea was one of the Eagles for a week – and in respect of that, and particularly to efforts on that trip – I want to give her a proper answers so that she does not feel compelled to waste her time in asking again, because then she'll be even less agreeable about it after.
Anyway, The Heir to House Ordelia gets on the tiptoes of her riding boots to give my outfit a once over, something she had clearly thought highly of just a few moments ago.
"Do you think that women find you unattractive because you're wearing their clothes, as well?"
This is a question of fashion, of course, which I think is different from aesthetics... and one that I have no idea how to answer. People just wear clothes for purposes, not aesthetics. Or at least I do. Even the carnation on my cloak, which is a decoration to others – is a reminder of my commitment to protect Edelgard and be her teacher, despite what I realize now is her total disgust with my visage.
Anyway, I shake my head at this and then bring a contemplative hand to my hair.
"Well, then why…? Are you a person of bad character…?" comes a prodding reply from the Leciestrian.
And Lysithea's curious question made with curled down lips, thin, frowning eyebrows and a scrutinizing tone finally got to the core of things – I've killed a lot of people. I haven't felt a thing about it since a month ago. I must be a person of bad character because I cannot be attractive to Edelgard, right? Because I am parasitizing her ability to make me have my own feelings, which she grants in spite of my repulsiveness to her.
And the twisting, grinding feeling around my peritoneum becomes my spur to speak.
"Edelgard thinks I'm a person unworthy of garlands." I confirm matter-of-factly.
It hurts even worse to say this – but I would not want to force her to utter these words on my behalf. Not after all she has done for my own ability to reach towards experiences I had never once thought possible.
Edelgard takes a step forward, shakes her head at me while blushing furiously – brings a white gloved hand to her chin and stares down Lysithea – one of the few people in Garegg Mach she can properly domineer over.
Turning to me while getting in between me and the Deer, she yips:
"That's not true at all, My Teacher! I merely asked you to seek my permission first..."
Lysithea just walks around her and tugs at my apron, stained brown with espresso drops she blew on me.
"You're just lying to spare his feelings because you put him in this maid dress." Lysithea says.
How did she know Edelgard put me up to it?
I look at Edelgard with a raised eyebrow.
My student looks at me accusatively.
I shake my head.
She shakes her head, but with her palm stretched across it.
Then the two return to a staring match that reminds me vaguely of the mock battle, and Edelgard, the Ever-Performing Princess – goes back into dress rehearsal behind her eyes, prompting a squint from Lysithea.
"I don't like being stared at, and I want to get another Saghert and Cream." Lysithea says, and then I realize that I'd actually like to get a Saghert and Cream with Lysithea so I can sort this mess of sensations out.
Edelgard has finished preparing her speech, though – and it is my duty to listen.
"A-actually, he is the most desirable Professor in the Academy…!"
As she says this, I lose all focus on the next shot of espresso that I'm trying to extract, and end up overflowing the cup and getting scalding hot water all over my hand. But I don't particularly mind it, because I have no interest in interrupting any further analysis on this topic from Edelgard.
"Firstly – no other Professor seems to have their time as occupied as ours, and it is rarely by the Black Eagles – rather, the petitioners of this precious time seem to always be students from other Houses… which in spite of our rivalries, I think I have been most graceful in allowing…"
I'm impressed by how much she knows about me when I know so little about myself.
"...And I grant this is because the Black Eagles are naturally the… most brilliant House in the Academy – and our hard-fought victories will continue to make the two of us peerless in all respects."
She looks back at me in confirmation, pleadingly – and then I realize that she was trying to compliment me and the rest of the Eagles in the process, even in spite of being personally baited by the Deer's mage. And that's a testament to her leadership.
None of the other stuff about the flower garland makes sense anymore – but the bad chest pain turns into acceptable chest pain because it's accompanied by such warmth… And at that moment, I realize that all of the experiences I had strung together about Edelgard's feeling of repulsion towards me were wrong – as she did of course want me as her Teacher.
With those things more clearly in mind, I grant that I should probably stop trying to make sense of my feelings for Edelgard – and just accept them as they come, however slowly they take to piece together. Because she has clearly taken responsibility over me as House Leader – even to the point of reading my mail.
So I must take responsibility for her in all respects. To whatever end that brings us to, even it requires a march through the eternal fires.
Speaking of fires, my hand also is scalded, but that's here nor there and I can't wait to confirm this sentiment to her with my newly clear head:
"We will demonstrate it." I confirm. That almost sounds villainous, until I realize that Edelgard must be a hero. Claude, I'm sure – is the villain.
Taking resolve in my words, she turns back to the other white-haired woman who seems intent on making me second-guess myself all the time.
"...Precisely, because I am his House Leader."
Shaking her head in reply, Lysithea snaps at My Student:
"I don't have any time for all this romance stuff. You're in my way."
It is worth noting that the Heir to House Ordelia is in our classroom, not hers – interrupting our festival activity. She's also clearly misinterpreting my student's feelings.
There is obviously nothing romantic between myself and Edelgard, as she has no interest in romance at this moment, and I don't really understand what romance or being romantic is currently either.
Another feeling of pain burns out from my ribs… but it's not even that bad – and come to the conclusion that it might be a sort of resignation. One that tells me that I'll never truly experience emotion with a blank face and an empty chest.
In fact, the odds are good that these lashings are a way for fate to explain that I was better off not having them – or that it will eventually be my responsibility to discard them to advance the futures of those I want to protect. That said, I think I'll try to hold onto them now – at least until the battle of the Canyon comes, where I will have to become a cruel monster again, interested only in killing – as the loss of resolve would prove fatal in such a moment.
But I can take some comfort in knowing the reason, confident for now in my ability to put these sensations and desires back into a box once blood is drawn from my sword, my hands, my teeth, whatever I can deploy to end the lives of those bandits… and mercenaries, and the Fire-Frill Feather Figure, and whoever else is stupid enough to array themselves against me.
And perhaps I can look at this month – the Harpstring Moon – as a window into all that is good about feeling… feelings, and move forward in the knowledge that the suppression of my own will be for the Eagles and Edelgard in the end, so that they can continue on experiencing theirs... which I'm sure come as second nature.
My student is having issues suppressing hers in particular at this moment.
"Having been here for a month, do you think you are the only one with other pressing responsibilities or interests? Hmph. It is a concern for neither of us, at present…!"
She's modified it, so I guess I need to figure out the distances between "at this moment" and "at present"... But, at present, she's quite firmly stating her disgust at romance, particularly with me, of course – that's the crux of the matter.
Unfortunately, this monologue attracts the attention of the patrons who have grown as distracted with this argument as I have become. They are prompting us to wrap it up with several frowns. In a strange way, though, this overreaction on Edelgard's part seems to increase Lysithea's opinion of us.
"Oh. That's a relief, Princess Edelgard. I thought you had become obsessed with romance as well, lately. It is becoming so… childish!"
I would say that Lysithea's relief is a relief to me, but it's not.
Still – I owe her my undivided attention, as she has tugged on my apron again, desiring it to return to her in expectation of answers to her ceaseless questions.
"…I thought I would have to waste my time getting rid of these to someone who thought I was interested in all that stuff. You aren't romantic either, right Professor?"
I can't be, of course. Shaking my head, I say:
"Edelgard thinks I'm a cretin."
"That is–"
My Student looks agitated – peculiarly agitated because she's not squinting her eyes in the same way that she does when she has a plan or when she's trying to elicit a reaction from me, or even when I poorly attempt chivalry.
She does not finish her reply though, as Lysithea powers through, very much in her own little world. In a weird way, through – her eyes at least seem to detect some weird kinship in mine, and vice versa – as if we're both taking solace in our incapability to ever understand romance as deeply as someone like Edelgard must, given how she has very clear timeframes on when she's even willing to participate in such a thing.
"Professor, Hilda gave me these garland flowers because she made a bunch of them, and now she won't take them back, so... – do you want this…?"
I take a glance and Edelgard, who is preparing some kind of dress rehearsal, with her eyes affixed distractedly on those garlands in total surprise, and interpret that as permission to take them.
Naturally, the Princess wouldn't offer garlands to a lowly subject of hers like myself at this moment, her teacher. This was all done, I realize – in consideration of the worst case scenario. But now we've found a middle path. An improvisation.
I'm about to accept Lysithea's impossibly empathetic gift before Dorothea appears over my shoulder.
Forgetting entirely about the garlands and bringing my gaze towards her green eyes, she asks:
"Hey, Professor got a sec…?"
Dorothea's point directs me towards a very angry family of twelve – two parents and ten pre-adolescent children, who Ferdinand had abandoned in order to fetch his infusion aroma set. Upon eye contact with me, I could see yet another very angry woman – their mother – begin to approach, identifying me as the ringleader in spite of the fact that I was crossdressing. Or maybe because of the fact that I was crossdressing…?
"...What happened?" I ask.
"Not that, I'm trying to interrupt the moment or anything… but… remember what we talked about…? A certain bee…" she prodded.
Dorothea had referred to Ferdinand as a "Bee" when he got particularly demonstrative about the ever-present threat of democracy.
"Gone?" I ask.
"Gone!" She winks.
The mother, who I realize is taller and better-built than I am, approaches ever closer.
"...What's our strategy?" I beg.
She smirks devilishly.
"What's the title you're going to use in your diary, again…?"
It is Generalissima – of course. This was also the title of her first speaking role in the Enbarr Opera, so I may use this as a nickname for her every now and again… the only issue is, no – I might as just include it once per entry for completion's sake.
Dorothea, of course, knows I'm keeping a diary – given she just mentioned it. Her ever-wandering eyes witnessed me writing in it as of late. Particularly when I would leave the door open for fresh nighttime air during Hubert's owl-shit artillery strikes.
I also usually start writing at the time she starts to return from choir practice.
Turning back to the white-hairs, I notice the garland flowers once in Lysithea's hand have disappeared. It makes me wonder if Hubert is here, rusing me about all of this garland nonsense like he was with the owl.
Second Rejection: Leonie
After all that fuss, Lysithea at least took a ticket. She then returned at 4pm, and took another ticket, demanding that I make another espresso for her with extra cream (translation: more than last time) and extra sugar (six spoonfuls, not five). And I was happy to oblige, even though she cut the line of roughly thirty villagers in front of her – I accepted her bizarre explanation that those villagers for some reason have time that she does not, in spite of being younger than most of those people in line.
What I'm trying to say... is that I try to be patient and understanding with everyone here, even those who only were my students, and are not even currently my students. Because with the exception of Hubert (sometimes), Felix (mostly), and Claude (all of the time) – I do not dislike any of the students here. And I even wish for the best possible lives to play out for two of those three aforementioned people.
And even the faculty, among whom Jeritza only seems to hold me in the mildest esteem, I wish for good and prosperous futures full of cresto-blah-blah-writing (Hanneman) , map-staring (Seteth), doctoring (Manuela) or talking to himself, alone, in his office (Jertiza). These are all valuable people, even if I do not get along with any except for my fellow rookie in the training grounds.
What I mean to say is this:
I try to be, to use a five-G word "overindulgent" – like Edelgard said, earlier – who is also in the bathroom, after complaining about reflux that she got from Duedue's teacup ride… one where she smiled so tenderly that I found myself having an epiphany that she must actually enjoy herself at times.
Unfortunately, I doubt I'll ever get to take her on a hand-cranked teacup ride constructed and operated by Duscur's finest anytime else in the next year… but it was, to use that word again, an epiphany to me. it is confirmation that she has other hobbies that provide enjoyment apart from reading my mail, at the very least, and at most...
I shouldn't get so greedy with those thoughts, of course.
Now I just need to find out what those hobbies are, so I can indulge them and be a better teacher for her.
And, for the first time – I think I might be getting a grasp on "fun", or at least meaningful diversion – because I thought of nothing else but her… at least until she belched on that ride – but then insisted that it was a hiccup. I will include here that I did not protest this assertion of hers.
It is also worth reminding anyone reading this… that I cannot emote in the way that everyone else in the world does. So obviously, I did not laugh at her, although – I think I would have, if I could have – but not at her. That laugh would have functioned as a way to express my appreciation for her being there, on our lunch break, to hiccup-belch. Due to reflux from Hubert's espresso, of course.
The Ever-Agitated-Adrestian then accused me of grimacing. And then my eyes fell off her, and landed on Felix, who was actually grimacing – but at me, in the maid costume. Or at life more generally. The fellow who doth quipped:
"Sieges are for cowards."
If I ever lead a siege, and he is somehow my student – I will take him on a forlorn hope once, I think. And of course, I will protect that disagreeable little duel junkie, but then also show him what exactly he's been searching for his entire life – direct confrontation with death.
And of course – I would be the referee to make sure it doesn't get too far.
Or I could be the enemy that kills him.
Although that seems like a waste of both our times, considering how amusing I find him.
But back to the grimace: If I grimaced, I would have made a note of it here, and would have considered it significant enough to include in this diary. I have not, and will leave posterity to judge me. And even if I did, it would have been a grimace of concern and not repulsion.
After that, Edelgard then spent the entire walk back making demands like how she wanted me to forward Hubert's mail and the like, and I was very patient. I agreed to everything, and will observe that as long as I'm able to because I was hoping she'd be happy again.
And then she started to complain about Hubert.
I really don't want her to think about Hubert when we're alone, so I tried out something old:
"You're brilliant to me."
And in reference to her pre-festival pep-talk that was very threatening but very cute to me:
"Your speeches are light on copy, and heavy on imagery."
Which the painter in Derdriu told me, which I only recalled because Ignatz was painting us.
After the second comment, she revealed to me that she had an imagery notebook where she drafts those things, and I sensed that I had won the festival already, regardless of Hubert's meddling or whatever the actual un-meddled result would be.
That is to say, we had a moment – to use her words – and I didn't ruin in like I did on the ninth of this moon by yawning.
In point of fact, it was quite like the moment alone on the patio at Celica's the other night.
Where I feel as if I have access to a rare Edelgard who feels comfortable talking about herself.
And can maybe learn a bit of trivia about her without needing to put my hands around her throat.
Not that I would of course – unless asked. Although I don't know of any situations in which you would want to be choked by someone you care about.
Anyways, shortly after sharing this fact, she "hiccupped" again mid-blush, and has not exited the restroom since.
And has since left me with a very caffeinated Lysithea, who for now is content with her heavy cream with a splash of espresso and six spoonfuls of sugar, along with…
...Leonie Pinelli, who has failed to take a ticket. In fairness, I expected Lysithea to bring a plus-one, as she is like Edelgard and is small, yet strong, but also vulnerable – thus needing protection (but not mine, as she is not an Eagle anymore), and that is all well and good.
Regardless, I should think that I had a reasonable and just expectation of her protector to at least take a ticket, given how they would sit with another who did and then consume free dessert and refreshments. In the grand scheme of things, this is not a big ask. And after three very polite, even verbose requests to take a ticket from my very terse and unacademic lips – my father's apprentice has flat-out refused each time, for no reason at all.
And this has escalated to the point where she is also now barking orders at me, such as:
"Professor, give this to Captain Jeralt."
This is a flower garland – and because I think my father was married to my mother, I am going to decline this gesture.
Because, for the first time in my life, I feel compelled to honor my mother, because I have women to protect as well, which I assume people do to other people who they have children with… when and if necessary?
In spite of my knowledge gaps around parenting and baby-making, the point remains.
And if the roles were reversed, and some man was offering this to my mother when Captain Jeralt, my father, was buried in the ground somewhere (we haven't had that talk yet either) – which I do not wish for – I would be inclined to tell that man to fuck off.
My sentiment here, as primitive as it is, is not gendered.
Because – even if they do not like it – Ferdinand, Caspar, Linhardt, and even Hubert, are also deserving of my protection. If they had children and were dead, I would not be passing along a flower garland to their children to give to their remaining parents, who let's say for the sake of argument are Bernadetta, Petra, Dorothea, and the Nameless One from Brigid, as Hubert already seems paired off. Obviously that order is not representative, and can be switched at will for this analogy.
Naturally, I will not see that come to pass as long as I breathe.
In Caspar's case, I may even be the one who has to kill those parents to teach him to respect Bernadetta – but he's also been very good with Bernie today, and I'm sensing progress. He invited her to share in some of the "juice" which she obviously declined and yipped over. I have high hopes for him.
He is also downright submissive around Petra, but I think that is because he feels awkward around her – and Petra seems eager to put something past the two of them – usually through training or fighting… but I'm not going to pry about until they're ready to talk about it.
But to avoid digression – what I mean here is – that the honor of dead loved ones is something to not walk all over. It's better to walk all over the people who killed them, or walk all over the people who are dishonoring them, I think. And I might want to kill Fallstaff as well, which I will need to negotiate with Hubert.
Regardless, I'm very close to telling Leonie, a student, led by Claude – who I once told to fuck off – along with Dimitri and Edelgard… to fuck off.
But for now, I will just say:
"No."
This clearly aggravates her, as she gives me the impression of not liking to rely on others, but also being a generally disagreeable person in general. Edelgard is also disagreeable but she does make me feel things that are much more worthwhile, I realize – and of course now I know what disagreeableness is, thanks to her, or at least due to my proximity to her.
Leonie inspires nothing but that sensation of disagreeableness.
"You're supposed to be his kid, but you don't know where he is?" I'm inquired.
"I know where he is." –North Oghma Watch Station with Lt. Nevrand.
"And you're actually his kid…?"
At this I just stare.
Edelgard exits from the restroom shortly thereafter and I get the impression that she's surprised to return to a room this hot… at least without being the one to light the fire first.
Leonie, to her credit, does not even acknowledge her.
"That's a really detached look for your own family."
"Me… Detached?" I ask, genuinely.
Ferdinand also returns from the library at this moment.
"Ah, Professor! I have just returned from creating more tea questionnaires!"
To the ginger gentleman's credit, he's just been marching to his own drum since Dorothea took over. And the Generalissima was smart enough to realize that she should just let him do his thing, instead of actually giving him meaningful directions.
"I'm impressed." And I am. Ferdinand is impressive.
My eyes return to Leonie, who I can imagine killing some day, probably in an offensive war and if not that, almost assuredly in a self-defense situation.
"You should take a ticket." I reply
"Professor, please take this to–" She says, ignoring this very basic request.
And then I realize that Edelgard is approaching. And that she is going to take up the tack… and I am going to stand here and do nothing, except encourage her, and validate her protectiveness over me and the rest of the Eagles… because I am going to make our bonds tough as steel with each passing day – and then... If anything bad happens, like a fight or anything like that…
I'm going to not intervene unless Edelgard needs me to, unlike say – Hubert.
And if she needs to be protected – which of course I doubt – I am going to kill Leonie right here, without a second thought – and then, to demonstrate – I'm going to tell Edelgard that I would kill every last person in Fodlan, except the Black Eagles with the same blank face in order to protect her, and them – and whatever family member they feel needs to be avenged.
But she doesn't need me to do that, of course – because Edelgard is determined, and convincing, and is able to command a room far better than I can. And she does the low-voice woman thing that even women as debased as Leonie Pinelli can understand, a very debased woman who was trying to trample on my mother's memory.
"...My mother…." I utter just above a whisper, with a blank face – or maybe a grimace.
I also didn't meant to do that, but this is I suppose the toll paid for having the entirety of the human palette of emotions come crashing into you all at once over a month's time.
…Still, I did not have a habit of unrestrained utterance.
And while Ferdinand just looked a bit surprised, and obviously unclear on the context – I think Edelgard picked up that those flowers weren't actually for me. Because Fallstaff mentioned me not having a mother at the gate – which she listened to intently. And then my Father told her that I had a mother in Manuela's infirmary – which she listened to intently… and then when I uttered those words, in this classroom.
I remember everything you say, My Teacher.
Even though the two of us are staring at each other blankly right now, we are having a conversation, and that conversation is one that's perhaps the most important we've ever had… and that she might be willing to tell me something that she wouldn't be otherwise… or be unsure about, otherwise... if I give the right reply to this question she's asking so silently.
Those are giving me a moment. But just one.
Because I'm getting the impression that she's grappled with the same sensation that overtakes me right now: that with a desire to protect those living comes a desire to protect the memory of those you've lost. But perhaps most importantly... that you can't achieve either without seizing what's right in front of you.
There are thirty people outside waiting, and Dorothea – the Generalissima, is on her lunch-break. I can't sit her dwelling on a person I've never known when there are four people – Ferdinand, Edelgard, Petra, and Caspar in this room now waiting for me.
I can't lose my responsibilities here over nothing. And although our victory is assured here tonight, because Hubert bribed the Gonfalonier and his merchant cronies – the kids standing before me sure as hell don't know that... and are looking to my leadership.
Particularly one pair that has invested an awful lot of her emotions into mine recently.
So I say, with eyes toward the advancing twilight:
"...No time for hesitation."
And then, in quiet confirmation, five bodies lurch towards that light.
Third Rejection: Dimitri
Garland flowers adorn the head of Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd as he shuffles utterly alone down the promenade, which made for something of a strange contrast. That is, of course – doubly strange – given how I believe the giant from Duscur is his retainer and bodyguard… but I'm willing to grant that they occasionally take leave of each other in the same way Hubert got out of dodge to preserve his inheritance.
Which in fairness to him, is apparently just used to dote on Edelgard.
As a far less rich but arguably more successful Edelgard doter, I can respect the desire there.
Still, I'd argue that Dimtiri's whole mood struck a starker contrast than any of that did. Particularly the garland flowers.
Naturally, I had no garland flowers on my head, but I have Edelgard following me around like Hubert follows Edelgard. In point of fact – accounting for Sothis – I have no privacy at all.
Dimitri is about to clear past me in his own little world before I shift my weight and his exceptionally attuned sense for combat alerts him to another warrior nearby. Those blue eyes of his scan – and then focus, presumably on what must be the utterly blank stare I'm giving him as the two of us stand about six feet apart in the nighttime.
"Professor."
I'm compelled to offer the Crown Prince the longest word I've ever said in my life:
"Congratulations."
It's probably the blankest congratulations he's ever been offered, but I suspect he's figured out I don't do the whole "emote" thing, even at his own (un)comfortable distance from my chaotic life so far.
All that said, The Lion King strikes me as one of those people who has fragmentary responses prepared for everyone and everything in a multitude of situations, and then pieces them together on the fly. And he's quite the improviser, replying:
"...Professor, it is I who should be congratulating you, as this was your victory and my defeat."
Shaking my head and trying to cut through the angst with what's left of my sarcasm, I try:
"I already lost the plaque."
And, while the stormcloud around him doesn't dissipate, I do suspect he might have smirked at that one. Bitterly, of course.
"Surely we both know who you lost it to." he notes as if he's also lost something from the person in question.
In fairness, he almost did lose his head last month.
On the bright side, he didn't call My Student a monster.
But if she tells me that the last hour was spent affixing that bauble to the wall, I might call her a monster myself, as I'm having my second conversation with Dimitri today in a fucking maid dress, and he's one of the few people not in the Black Eagles who I still have a shred of goodwill left with, I think.
After a gust of wind cuts through, I'm reminded and blurt out:
"And my cloak…"
Dimitri seems to think this was a part of the maid outfit, because I can see him clearly starting to try and remember if I had left it on the training grounds. What a good kid.
"The monster has it."
This actually manages to disarm him just a bit – and he offers:
"...Nevertheless, after such a win, I am surprised to not see you celebrating yourself, Professor. Sylvain has mentioned that you've become a regular at Celica's."
And so I try out another line I've been meaning to trying out on this royal to see if I can break the the squall:
"You're welcome to my tab."
Perhaps finally realizing that my totally empty expression is attempting to be jovial, he works up some resolve and says:
"...Professor, I am only asking this because of – a visual cue… but, have you given any thought to the correspondence that your… other student presented last week?"
Doubtlessly the visual cue is my ungarlanded head.
Putting a hand to my hair, and resigning myself to meeting those pained cerulean dots, I say:
"It's too late now, Dimitri."
And he takes that in silence. And then I have another unplanned utterance as I see two boots and a flash of red make their way down the steps.
"...I'm protecting them."
While I think he gets some of my meaning, he seems more focused on the enemies in front of him than the allies behind him.
"You believe that the bandit force will truly be that serious, Professor?"
Bringing that hand scratching my hair down to my chin, I realize that he might be privy to some intelligence that I don't by virtue of his nationality. So I just reply:
"Something's up. Be mindful."
Edelgard then notices me and the crown prince and picks up her pace. And I'm blown away by how cute it is – so much so that I nearly miss Dimitri's last question of the night.
"I suppose you are implying the recent moves from Lord Lonato as well."
I take a deep breath and follow my gut. And gut tells me that the The 4F guy is going to make a go at him too while we march down to the canyon.
"...Start with the blockhouses first."
As I state those five words, so inferior to the six I heard recently – I realize that they might mean more to Dimitri than I realized, because he accepts them without a moment's analysis.
Even so, I find regretting them immediately, because if they're wrong…
But my mind does not linger, because I notice that Edelgard is holding a leather portfolio close to her chest... and that her lavender irises grow more beautiful to me with each long gait she takes towards me.
A yellow line goes up in my mind, and I know, with absolute certainty, that Edelgard will tell herself something about me tonight.
The two of us don't arrive at Celica's until ten, and the confirmation of that line waits until just before midnight.
