A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you so much to everyone who's supported this story so far - it means so much! I hope you all are doing well and enjoy this next chapter! It's also from Byleth's POV which I am very excited about!
I present to you Garreg Mach's resident matchmakers: Claude von Riegan and Hilda Valentine Goneril :)
Byleth hurries into the Golden Deer classroom, one hand clutching a thick Tactics Primer and the other wrapped around a cup of ginger tea, steam pouring out of the delicate porcelain. She's fairly certain it belongs to Seteth, but she's consumed so much tea from it the past few days that she can't really be sure.
"Professor! Is it really you?"
"Oh, Professor, we were so worried!"
"Well, well, well! It seems Teach really has returned to us at last!"
The shouts of her students jolt Byleth from her reverie, and she hurries to her desk, throwing down her books and nearly spilling her tea all over the wood.
"Good morning, everyone." She sheds her cloak and hangs it on the back of her chair, smiling out at the crowd of Golden Deer that surrounds her desk. "I'm sorry for my absence."
"Oh, don't apologize, Professor! It was nice to have a break from all that tiring training." Hilda grins brightly, and Byleth shakes her head. Of course Hilda would enjoy all the time off.
"Someone brought you food, right? Sick people always need food!" Raphael looks absolutely indignant at the fact that Byleth might have been starving away in her room that just so happens to be across from the Dining Hall.
"Yes, I ate, Raphael, but it was only a cold, everyone, there's no need for all this." Byleth tries to settle her students, but she knows well enough that calming down the Golden Deer once they've gotten started is no easy task.
"Relax, everyone. Teach is back, and she's undoubtedly got endless wisdom to share with us. Isn't that right, Teach?" Claude leans against Byleth's desk and winks at her, and she sighs, giving everyone a tight-lipped smile.
"I don't know about endless, but I certainly have picked up a few new battle formations during my time off." At Byleth's words, a collective groan sounds from the Golden Deer, and she has to bite back a laugh. "Or we could have our exam a day early, if you'd prefer that?"
"No, wait, battle formations sound like an excellent idea!" Hilda claps her hands together and shoots her fellow classmates a deathly glare. "We'd much rather learn than have to take a boring old test."
"I second that," Lorenz says, and Byleth raises an eyebrow. Lorenz is usually the first to jump on an opportunity to prove his superiority. "Only because I wish to be fully prepared before I take an examination of my abilities, Professor. A noble never fails, you know."
"Oh, we know," Claude says mockingly, and Lorenz gives him a petulant look.
"Well, everyone, if we're done with this little... whatever this is, I'd like to start the lesson. Please take your seats." Byleth watches the students walk reluctantly back to their desks, chattering excitedly amongst themselves, and wonders how exactly it was that she ended up as a teacher. "Absolutely not, Claude! You're not sitting next to Hilda again. We all remember how well that went last time."
The lesson passes quickly, and she only has to wake up one student: a slumbering Rafael, who claims that he was so worried about her that he completely forgot to sleep. The sad part is that she thinks he's probably telling the truth.
Finally, she puts down her chalk and sighs, looking out at the sea of glassy eyes in front of her. "You're free to go, everyone. I'll see you tomorrow for your exam. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."
The class rises in a swell of color and chatter and exits the room, abandoning books and ink bottles across the desktops. Byleth returns to her desk and buries herself in paperwork, not bothering to watch the students leave. She should get lunch, she realizes, but she has so much work to catch up on, so many lessons to plan-
"Professor?" Byleth looks up from her papers to see Hilda in front of her desk, rocking back and forth on her heels. Claude stands at her side, and the two of them wear identical grins that make her more than a little uncomfortable.
"Yes?" She looks from Claude to Hilda and Hilda to Claude, and suddenly, the two of them break out in laughter, looking at each other as if everything is just one big joke. "What is it?"
"We have some… business to discuss with you, Teach. Let us take you to lunch." Claude winks at her, running a hand through his tousled hair, and Hilda nods emphatically.
"And by taking me to lunch, I assume you mean the Dining Hall?" Byleth sighs, downing the rest of her ginger tea, which is now cold, in one gulp. She might as well accompany them, even if it may very well be one big scheme. It's better to eat with someone else than to eat alone, isn't it? "Fine, but I have work to do, so we'd better go now."
By the time they arrive at the Dining Hall, it's already full of students and faculty and knights alike, eating and chatting loudly amongst themselves. Claude and Hilda steer her over to a table in the corner after they get their trays, the two of them exchanging mysterious whispers and nodding conspiratorially.
"What is this about?" Byleth asks tiredly once they're seated, and Claude and Hilda exchange a look. Finally, Hilda speaks, her gaze directed on someone over Byleth's shoulder.
"We have an important matter to discuss with you, Professor." Hilda giggles, unable to keep the seriousness in her tone. "Look over your shoulder."
Curious, Byleth glances over her shoulder at the table behind them, hoping for some big revelation, but instead, it's merely Flayn and Seteth who sit there, talking jovially to each other.
"It's just Flayn," she says, turning back to her tablemates, and Claude smacks himself in the forehead.
"And? Who's next to Flayn?" Claude waves his hand as if he's trying to draw out another response from her, and Byleth looks at him blankly, completely and utterly confused.
"Seteth?" Byleth looks back over her shoulder, wondering if Seteth dyed his hair or something of that sort.
"Stop, Professor! Look back over here!" Hilda hisses, and Byleth turns back to them, frowning. "You can't let him see you looking!"
"Why not?" Byleth asks.
"Oh, playing the innocent, are we, Teach?" Claude winks at her again, his tone dripping with suggestiveness. "Well, don't try to hide it from us. We know what's been going on."
"What's been going on?" Byleth shakes her head, completely exasperated. What are these two going on about?
"Claude and I were going for an evening stroll a few days ago, to clear our heads, you know, after all that independent training we'd been doing," Hilda says, and Claude nods sagely. Byleth knows full well that neither of them have done any 'independent training,' but she doesn't interject. "We thought that we'd pay you a visit, so we walked down to your room, and that was when I saw the most shocking sight I've ever laid eyes upon."
"What was it?" By now, Byleth was completely lost. What shocking thing could they have seen?
"None other than the good Seteth, a man of the church, walking out of your room and looking like he'd just had the time of his life!" Claude says the words quietly, but both him and Hilda set off on a bout of laughter that seems to attract the attention of the whole Dining Hall.
Byleth wants to start laughing too, or maybe cry, but instead, she just shakes her head, putting her hands over her eyes. To think that Seteth- That she would-
"Seteth was bringing me tea," Byleth hisses, and Claude and Hilda stop their laughing to exchange another knowing glance.
"Is that all he brought you?" Hilda asks innocently, her voice wavering on the verge of laughter.
"Hilda! Of course it was." Byleth shoots a glance over her shoulder at the table containing Seteth and Flayn, and she's about to turn back around when Seteth's gaze drifts over to meet hers, and she flushes a deep red before whirling around again. "The two of you are being ridiculous. There's nothing of that sort going on. Seteth doesn't even like me!" she says in a hushed whisper.
"Aw, Professor, you're blushing!" Hilda says, clasping her hands together as if this is the most exciting thing she's seen all day. "I'm sure he likes you, Professor. Don't worry, we can help you!"
"No, that won't be necessary." Byleth shakes her head vehemently. Her and Seteth? The man who, just days ago, said he didn't trust her and stormed out of her room as if he'd been shot? He wouldn't even want to be her friend, let alone her- her lover.
"Come on, Teach, everyone needs a little bit of romance in their lives!" Claude gives her a disappointed look, and she throws up her hands.
"We have battles to fight, Claude! There's no time for romance, and even if there was, I have no need for love," Byleth lies. It's far from the truth, she knows that, but what else is there to say? War is coming to Fodlan, one way or another. She can taste it in the air. Love has no place in that sort of fray. She prays Claude and Hilda don't keep pestering her, and they manage to hold off for the rest of the meal. She can only hope they don't mention it again.
Her hopes are dashed on the day before the Annual Ball, when she's speaking with Marianne in the cathedral and, of all people, Claude and Hilda enter at the same time as Seteth and Flayn, the four of them crossing paths right next to Byleth and Marianne in a horrible sort of collision.
"Oh, hello there, Seteth!" Hilda chirps, elbowing Claude, and the two of them don their matching grins once again. "Lovely day, isn't it?"
"I suppose," Seteth says, coughing slightly. "Hello, Hilda. Claude. Marianne. Professor." He says the last word with a strange sort of emphasis that feels slightly menacing to Byleth, and she hopes Claude and Hilda take that as a hint. They don't.
"So, Seteth, will you be attending the upcoming Ball?" Claude asks innocently, and Byleth has to fight to keep herself from blushing. Beside her, Marianne shifts uncomfortably, obviously wanting to leave this disaster of a conversation.
"I do not think-" Seteth begins, but Flayn steps in.
"Of course he will be! My brother used to actually have fun, believe it or not." Flayn winks cheerfully and Seteth looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here, and honestly, Byleth feels exactly the same way.
"I-I am rather busy around this time of year, I'm afraid. In any case, the Annual Ball is mainly for students." Seteth clears his throat and shifts his weight awkwardly.
"Oh, that's nonsense! Professor will be going, won't you, Professor?" Hilda raises an eyebrow at Byleth, who wants to run away. Blazes, fighting a battle seems easier than having a conversation with these two.
"I suppose I can't miss it, after all the good things I've been told about it," she says, trying to maintain a calm facade. Seteth looks at her with surprise, and the second their eyes meet, Byleth can feel her face grow hot. What is going on with her?
"Wonderful!" Flayn bounces on her heels excitedly, looking up at her brother. "Well, that settles it. You have to attend now, Brother!"
"We can discuss this later, Flayn." Seteth coughs, surveying the motley crew before him. "Have a nice day, everyone."
"Seteth, wait!" Byleth catches Seteth's elbow just as he's about to turn, and he quickly draws his arm away from her touch as if he's been shocked. Byleth tries not to feel stung by the gesture. "I- Might I have a word?"
"Of course," Seteth says, still staring at her as if she's something to be regarded with extreme caution.
"Why don't we all go to Dining Hall for a treat? Marianne, wouldn't ice cream be divine right now?" Hilda elbows Marianne and gives a not-so-subtle tilt of her head in Seteth's direction, and Marianne looks as though she disapproves, but she doesn't fight Hilda on it. A wise decision, in Byleth's opinion. Hilda is not easily diverted.
"I suppose," Marianne mutters quietly, and Hilda grins, linking her arm through the blue-haired girl's. "Could we- could we have peach sorbet?"
"We can have anything you like!" Hilda grabs Flayn with her other hand and half-guides half-pulls the girls through the front door, Claude trailing behind them after winking suggestively at Byleth.
By the time Byleth turns back to Seteth, he looks completely confused and maybe slightly affronted by the previous encounter. Byleth doesn't blame him. She knows her Deer can be a lot to handle.
"I'm sorry about them," she says cautiously, not wanting to scare Seteth off again like last time. "They're just excited about the Ball, that's all."
"There's no need for apology," Seteth says, shaking his head. "I completely understand."
"You're feeling better, then?" Byleth tries her best to look pleasant, but she can never tell which emotion she's displaying, if any at all. She's never been very good with all that.
"Yes, thank you." Seteth gives her tight-lipped smile, and Byleth can't help but notice how uncomfortable he looks, almost as if he's not in control of himself.
"I'm glad." Byleth sighs, wondering how to approach this next topic. "I just wanted to ask if- if something happened, that day. When you brought me the tea."
"Whyever would that be the case?" Seteth says, and while his tone is nonchalant, Byleth can see something flicker behind his eyes. Like he's nervous.
"You just left so quickly, and- oh! I've just remembered, I still have your teacup," Byleth says.
"Oh. Yes. Well, there's no urgency. You may keep it as long as you like. As for my hasty exit, I must apologize. I was feeling- feeling rather unwell, and I needed some fresh air." Seteth runs a hand through his green hair, the gesture so un-Seteth-like that Byleth smiles, and Seteth's face seems to brighten as she does.
"That's a relief. I was worried it was something I'd done." Byleth laughs slightly and Seteth stiffens.
"No, of course not. You- You were a perfectly excellent host." He gives her a tight smile again, and Byleth isn't sure why the stumbled compliment makes her feel so good.
"By the way, is it true that faculty aren't supposed to attend the Ball? I don't want to break the protocol, and all that." Byleth frowns, wondering if she should stay back. She'd probably just make a fool out of herself anyway.
"No, no, that was just… I haven't danced in a long time. I didn't want to get Flayn's hopes up, you understand." Seteth looks uneasy, and Byleth tries to reassure him with a smile. He's always so tight-laced, so upright. Byleth wonders if Flayn was telling the truth about him once knowing how to have fun.
"I've never been dancing." Byleth nearly snickers at the thought of it, her twirling around a dance floor like some kind of buffoon. "I don't think I'd even know how to start."
"I'm sure your skills are superior to mine," Seteth says, his smile softening slightly. "I've always found sparring rather similar to dance, anyway, and you do quite a lot of that."
"I suppose you have a point." Byleth tries to imagine her hand clasped in another's, placing her feet in a structured order. "To be completely honest, though, I doubt even Manuela's dancing lessons could save me. I'm sure I'll just make a mess of myself. Mercenaries are not exactly… delicate."
"Come now, I'm sure you're far better than you believe. Dancing is not all that difficult, anyway, not when you know how to begin." Seteth steps closer to her, his stern demeanor melting away just slightly, and Byleth feels her heart rate speed up a little against her will. Heart sickness, the night before the Ball? She does not want to spend the 'most exciting night of the year' stuck in Manuela's hospital wing. "You simply take the hand of your partner, relax your wrist, and let them lead."
"Interesting," Byleth says, staring pointedly at Seteth's hand, which is flexing anxiously at his side. Surely it wouldn't be inappropriate for her to take it, not when he is describing how exactly one should do it. It's just a technique, a lesson, really, just like a battle formation. It has to be shown, not told. Tentatively, she reaches out a hand and gently laces her slender fingers through Seteth's, raising their clasped hands up to shoulder level. "Like this?"
"E-Exactly." Seteth's eyes widen and for a moment, Byleth holds her breath, wondering if she's done something wrong. It's like time stops for a second, like her and Seteth are trapped in between a Divine Pulse, and Seteth gently slides his thumb over the back of her hand at an achingly slow pace. Is this part of the dance?
Suddenly, Seteth springs backward, brushing his hand off on the shoulder of his uniform as if he's just touched something sharp.
"I-I must be going." His voice comes out in between harsh breaths, and then he mumbles something like "it was nice to see you, Professor," before sprinting out of the cathedral and down the hallway.
Byleth stands alone in the middle of the floor, her skin still tingling from Seteth's touch, raised as if it's holding a phantom hand. Inexplicably, she feels the same way she does after she's killed someone: cold, with a stab of regret, and she wants to run after him but she doesn't. What in the Goddess's name just happened?