As the song finished, Sylvain pressed a light kiss to Dorothea's hand. She rolled her eyes and he smiled before stepping away.
The musicians began another tune and Sylvain retreated to a refreshments table, taking a glass of champagne.
The ball was beautiful, with gorgeous golden light bathing the entire room. Students, teachers, and even a few knights danced across the floor as servers flitted through conversing couples offering h'orderves here and wine there. The din of chatter fluttered just below the volume of the music, stringed instruments plucking and playing away as nobles and commoners mixed as they danced, spinning and twirling.
All the students wore their dress uniforms, ornamented with just a singular addition: a cape from their shoulder denoting their house if they were noble. They all differed in colors, some fancier than others, some with house crests or mottos emblazoned on.
Sylvain had abstained from wearing one.
Who had he not danced with yet? The night was still young and he was on a mission to dance with everyone he could before the evening passed.
"Dedue!" he cried, seeing the Duscur man pluck a tart off a server's tray. "Come, dance with me."
Dedue paused, mouth open as he stopped mid-bite. He chewed and swallowed. "An odd request, Sylvain."
Sylvain grabbed his hand and tugged him to the dance floor. "I try to make a habit of it. Come."
The music slowed to a close and Byleth didn't want it to be over. Mercedes, from her smile, felt the same. Feeling bold and a bit foolish, Byleth brought her lover's hand to her lips and kissed it.
Mercedes blushed and pulled Byleth off the dance floor. "Someone's forward today," she murmured.
"Must be the company," Byleth teased back. A server walked by and Byleth stole flutes of champagne from the tray.
"You haven't been drinking lately," Mercedes observed. "When we met, you seemed deep in that habit."
Byleth handed one off to her and clinked her own glass against it. "Must be the company," she repeated, teasing. After a moment she sighed. "You're right. But things are better now. I have you, the Deer. Life is better."
Mercedes smiled brightly. "I'm happy to hear that, Byleth. My heart broke when I first saw you like that. I wanted to help."
Byleth leaned in, bold once more, close to Mercedes' ear and spoke, "You have in so many ways, love."
"If you keep that up, someone's going to ask questions," Mercedes said, calm despite the blush that ran rampant across her cheeks.
She tipped her glass back, feeling the familiar burn of alcohol down her throat. Though this was pathetic, weak, nothing like the liquor she used to down. "Let them. I've got all I need in front of me."
"Unfortunately for you, I think you're more popular than you expected," Mercedes said with a wink.
"Professor," Lorenz said from behind her. "Might I trouble you for a dance?" He stood with a long purple shoulder cape that displayed the Crest of Gloucester. "Unless, of course, you're occupied."
Byleth laughed. "I've never been the belle of the ball before. You'll have to fight to get to me, Mercie." Mercedes giggled and Byleth turned to Lorenz. "Of course, but I'm not your professor here. Byleth is fine."
Lorenz' lips curled. "As you wish, Byleth."
Mercedes blew a subtle kiss as Byleth went to the dancefloor with Lorenz.
Claude had managed to find a quiet corner of the room to be able to breathe. Every woman outside his house had asked him to dance, from Monica to Ingrid. How many were seeking something more and how many were mere obligation, he didn't care to think on.
After all, his sights were on Byleth.
Every student was in their dress attire, with the exception of the teachers and knights who wore similarly fine garments. Byleth hadn't seemed to have had such, so she came in the same dress attire as her students.
What a different world it'd be if Byleth was a student alongside him. Perhaps he could have picked up the courage to say something sooner then. He certainly respected Mercedes, she hadn't been afraid to make a move from the looks of it.
He'd watched them dance earlier. Not intently, just small glances as they passed on the dance floor. He saw their smiles and it made him happy. He'd be a poor friend to be displeased at the prospects of his companions' happiness.
Claude just wished it could be easier to let go of feelings.
"Shouldn't sit in the corner, kid, people will mistake you for me."
Claude chuckled. "Hello, Shamir. On guard duty?"
Shamir snorted. "More like babysitting duty. But you look like you ate a lemon. What's wrong?"
Claude sighed, leaning against the rough high table he'd claimed for himself. "I suppose they're just childish problems."
"Problems are only childish if you act like a child. Though moping in a corner isn't a good start," Shamir said. She fixed him with a look that was almost a challenge.
"I'm well aware of how things look." He sighed. "Just taking a moment to think."
Shamir nodded. "There's nothing wrong with that, but you've got an image to maintain. People remember this ball, and you haven't the anonymity I have." With that, she walked away.
He hadn't expect to receive advice from Shamir, though to be frank, he knew next to nothing about her. She looked out for Ignatz, so that was good in his book.
"…wasting time with it. We could prevent such a thing if we pressed him."
"The Archbishop has made her decision, Aelfric. The methods you propose are too extreme."
Though perhaps he could tarry a bit longer if a secret was at stake.
Standing at the only table further into the corner were Aelfric and Seteth. Neither seemed to notice their surroundings as they argued.
Claude turned his back to them and listened.
"He claimed there were more of them. Each of them could cause another Remire. I don't particularly like what I suggested, but the idea of that happening elsewhere horrifies me."
"Torture will not make Tomas talk."
"Neither will sitting pretty waiting for him to speak of his own accord!"
"Enough," Seteth said. "We can discuss this later."
"Indeed, we shall," Aelfric said. The sound of footsteps passed Claude and Aelfric vanished into the crowd.
"Claude."
He froze, turning his head to see Seteth watching him. "Yes?"
"It doesn't suit you to skulk back here with the old men. Go, dance, enjoy the day." There was a faint smile on his face, one Claude couldn't decipher. Did he know? Did he care?
Claude retreated to the dance floor, quickly swept up by Hilda into a waltz. He smiled, laughed, and dwelled on what he heard.
If he were being perfectly honest, he had forgotten dancing meant footwork until he actually arrived at the ball.
Though perhaps it was the fact that he'd arrived back from Leicester hours before. Their trip back had been quieter, the four of them thinking on what had happened.
For him, his mind was on the Gloucester soldiers. As much as he'd suspected it, the fact that Lorenz' father was responsible for it rocked him to the core. Nobles were supposed to be like Claude and Lorenz, friends and defenders of the people.
Whatever those bracelets were that could control beasts, they had to have come from a wealthy patron. Someone who had gold to spare—and perhaps was known for magical talent as a result of their Crest or their house's Relic.
Questions upon questions. He needed to speak to Lorenz soon, there hadn't been a chance since getting back.
"I am thinking you are also unsure how to dance?"
Of course Petra had found him in the back of the room.
"Ah, well, my leg," Ignatz said, embarrassed.
Petra blinked and then gasped. "Ignatz, I am sorry! With how you handled yourself on our trip, I am forgetting. Please have forgiveness for me."
"No worries, Petra." Ignatz smiled. As if he thought Petra could have a single mean bone in her body. And she certainly looked pretty tonight in her uniform. Moments like these made him forget he was actually older than her. "I'm sure with work, I could dance, but I haven't exactly been practicing my steps."
She nodded. "I have understanding. Let me keep you company. I am not knowing these Fódlan steps and I have already embarrassed myself. I should like not to be remembered for my feet."
"Plenty of room at the table," Ignatz said, gesturing to the small round table he leaned on while standing.
Petra stepped around it and stood beside him. "The music is nice. In Brigid we do not have instruments with strings like this. We are making drums and flutes and—" the next word that came out of her mouth was in her language. "That one is my favorite."
"I don't recognize the word," Ignatz said, leaning forward in interest. "Could you describe it?"
Her eyes lit up. "It is made from stone, traditionally. I am not taught how to make them, but I believe they are hollowed out stones. We are carving holes in them to make different sounds when struck. But we also make them from metal. The sound is much sharper, like a bird singing."
"If I ever visit Brigid, I'll make sure to listen to them," Ignatz said.
"They are played in the Empire as well. After this year I could be taking you to show you on the coast." Petra smiled. "Some of my people have been moving to the Empire for different lives and they are playing concerts."
Ignatz blushed, but nodded. "I accept. Once this year is over, I want to hear one of these…" He pause, then tried to pronounce the word.
Petra giggled. "Close enough."
The song changed from a waltz to a slow tune as dancers stopped their elegant steps and adjusted to slow dancing.
"Would you be caring to dance, Ignatz?" Petra asked.
"Huh? Oh, well, I don't think I really can," he said.
"I am thinking you can." She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his waist. "This slow dance, this I am familiar with. We must just be swaying."
His protests died on his lips as the two of them began to sway back and forth, in the corner of the ballroom away from all others. Any reply he might have had fell away as he found himself staring at Petra from mere inches away.
"Hello? Is Ignatz in here?" Petra giggled, bringing a hand up to tap his forehead.
He chuckled nervously, still unsure where to put his hands. Petra guided them to her back, not that it made him any less nervous.
"Your tattoo," he said, eager to fill the brief silence with something, "what does it mean?"
"Which one?" she asked.
"You've more than the one by your eye?"
Petra laughed, unconsciously pulling Ignatz closer to her. "I am having several. My arm, my back, my legs, all are having markings. They are prayers." She paused. "No, that is not the right word. They are protection of the Forest Spirit."
"You've mentioned the Fire Spirit before, is the Forest similar?" Ignatz asked.
"There are many spirits and if I am telling you everything, then I am afraid the ball would be long over." She grinned. "But the Forest, Flame, and Water are the three we pray to the most."
The song ended.
Ignatz stopped swaying and felt disappointed. Petra looked it too.
"Thank you for the dance, Ignatz." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled back, she looked as red as he felt. "If you will be excusing me, I must be speaking with Dorothea." And with that she scampered off before he could even reply.
"You're welcome," he breathed though she would not hear it. A smile tugged at his face, threatening to outshine all others at the ball.
"Professor," a stiff voice greeted.
Byleth turned around from the table of food and saw the last person she expected to see.
"May we speak for a moment?" Ashe asked.
"Of course," Byleth said, gesturing for him to follow her. He nodded as she walked through the crowd.
He wore a cape of Gaspard. As an adoptive son, he'd only wear that cape if he were acknowledged as heir to the house. Ashe seemed to be making a conscious effort to appear older. The dress uniform and combed back hair helped, but it was still the same boyish face that looked at her when she turned around.
That face had steel in its eyes, but it relaxed when he sighed. "Forgive me, professor, I don't intend to take up more of your time than necessary."
"It's quite alright," she said, nervous herself. "I can always make time for a student, no matter what house."
He nodded. "I'll still make this quick. I've been speaking with Sylvain recently. He's helped me see some things differently. I would like to apologize for how I treated you this year."
That was not what she expected. "No apology is necessary, Ashe. I can't imagine what you were going through."
"However," he said, some of that steel returning, "I do not forgive you, or the Church, for the murder of my father. The way I reacted was fueled by grief and wrong, but it does not excuse you of wrong doing."
"Ah," Byleth said. "I think I understand."
"You don't," he said bluntly. "But the sentiment is appreciated." And with that he walked away.
She barely had time to breathe before being beset upon by another student.
"Forgive me, professor, but I saw Ashe speaking with you," Dimitri said. "Is everything alright?"
She swore Dimitri was taller than when the year first began. Or maybe the uniform just suited him well. "Yes, it's alright. We just had a light chat."
"Good, I am relieved." Dimitri smiled. "Ashe is a good man, but he has had to suffer through much this year. To lose one's parents is…" He visibly faltered.
"No need to dwell on it, Dimitri," Byleth said.
"Right." He cleared his throat. "I'd actually meant to find you earlier this evening. I wanted to speak about Mercedes."
"What about her?" Byleth said, defensive.
Dimitri noticed. "Nothing untoward, I assure you. I've just noticed her being happy lately. Happier than when she was with the Lions. I may not be the smartest on matters of the heart, but even I can connect dots. I wanted to thank you, she seemed so sad before transferring to your house."
"Sad?" Byleth asked. Talk about a word she wouldn't use to describe Mercedes.
"Ha, strange, I know. But I could not help but think she was melancholic…" he drifted off, before blinking. "Forgive me, I think I'm overstepping my bounds."
"It's alright, Dimitri. I appreciate your words. She makes me very happy, too." Byleth said with a smile.
He returned it. "Excellent. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that. I'll allow you to return to your evening, as I believe my date should be returning soon—ah!" His smile grew as he stepped away from Byleth towards Ingrid, a look in his eyes that Byleth remembered seeing in Hilda's.
Were she a romantic, she'd have probably wanted to speak to the two of them. But she was not, so she sought out Mercedes again.
"Hey Leonie!" Raphael said between bites.
She took the chair next to him and chuckled. "Seems like you found your one true love just like all those couples out there."
"Huh?" He looked down at his plate, filled with slices of ham glazed with honey. "Oh, well, can't go wrong with a full belly. It never lets you down."
"That's certainly true. May I?" she asked, gesturing to his plate. Raphael handed her his fork and she stole a piece off his plate before handing it back. "I expected to see you on the dancefloor. There's plenty of people can't take their eyes off you at the training yard."
Raphael burst out laughing, but that laughter slowly subsided as he saw Leonie's confusion. "Wait, you're serious?"
"Yeah. I can't say they have good intentions, but some people like muscles a lot." Leonie shrugged.
Raphael blinked. "Huh. I never noticed. I guess that's nice."
Leonie laughed and elbowed him. "You're pretty dense, big man."
He stuck out his tongue at her. "I'm aware, Ignatz tells me often. But, uh, I'm just not interested in anything like that for me. I'll leave that stuff to all of them." He gestured to the dancing duos away from their table.
"Huh," Leonie said. "Well, I bet that makes things easier. Here I am trying to get up the nerve to ask someone to dance."
"Jeralt?" asked Raphael.
She rolled her eyes. "Silly. No, it's Lorenz." Leonie looked away as she said it, shy.
"Why would you…oh," he said.
"Yeah."
The sat there for a few seconds before Raphael began to chuckle. "I think you came to the wrong guy for help with that."
"Oh, I don't know about that. You've got a big heart, Raphael. All of the Deer see it." She smiled at him and patted his shoulder.
"Aw, thanks Leonie!" He smiled. "I try to do what I can. If you're looking to dance with someone, I'll dance with you as your friend."
"I'll keep that in mind." She looked off across the hall and sighed. "Seems strange that we're mixing with so many nobles here. You, me, Ignatz, all of the commoners. This doesn't happen every day."
"You got that right," Raphael said. "Seems like we all get along fine though. So that counts for something."
Leonie sighed. "I hope you're right. Did you hear what Ignatz found on his trip with Shamir?"
Raphael's smile faded. "I haven't actually talked to Ignatz much yet."
She cocked her head to the side, frowning. "Why not?"
"It's dumb." He stared at the plate in front of him and it looked like for once in his life, he wasn't hungry. "I just wish he'd brought me along."
"Is this because of your parents?" Leonie asked softly.
He nodded. "You know the story?"
"Ignatz mentioned it to me."
"Yeah. I think Ignatz has it in his head that he has to fix things to repay me, since my parents died instead of his. It's stupid of him and it makes me angry to see him take risks like this, especially with his leg," Raphael said, anger oddly absent from his voice. Instead he sounded tired, like a century old debate. Leonie guessed he and Ignatz had had this conversation several times.
"You're worried about him," Leonie said.
"Of course I am. He's my best friend, practically family. I want to keep him safe. If he'd asked me to come along I wouldn't care, but he left me behind." He sighed. "I've made peace with my parents' death. He hasn't."
"I don't think you're wrong to feel that," Leonie slowly said. "But he's trying to recover from guilt, I think. I can't say I blame him."
Raphael speared a slice of meat with a fork idly. "I agree, that's what makes it hard. It feels like I'm being selfish or something."
"Tell you what, let's get your mind off it tonight and we'll try talking to him tomorrow. I'll help," Leonie offered.
Raphael smiled. "What did you have in mind?"
"Let's go make fools of ourselves on that dancefloor. Maybe I'll work up the courage to ask Lorenz," she said.
He laughed. "Works for me!"
Felix brooded in a corner, cycling between cursing his father, Glenn, Sylvain, Dimitri. When he ran out of names to call one, he moved to another.
It was a common pastime of his.
Sylvain was dancing with everyone. And that meant everyone. Felix watched him like a cat, his every partner was someone knew as if he were checking off boxes.
The worst part about it, was that Felix couldn't even be mad at Sylvain in good conscience. He'd told Felix he'd be okay with going against Rodrigue's wishes, that he didn't care at all about the thoughts of others.
Felix had refused. So they came to the ball separately. Maybe it'd been a mistake.
"Hello, Felix, I brought you a snack," Annette chirped as she walked up to him.
Ah yes, his constant companion for the evening. He couldn't seem to get rid of her. Though if he could be honest with himself (a rarity), he enjoyed the company.
"What's this?" he grumbled taking the small cake from her.
She shrugged. "I have no idea, but Mercie always says that you can't be sad with sweets in your belly. And I had one, it was so tasty!"
He took a bite and it was good. Something with lemon, which was uncommon in Faerghus. He'd have to snag another.
"Thank you, Annette," he said.
"You're welcome!" she said with a bright smile.
"Aren't you going to dance with Mercedes some?" he asked.
"We already did a few times," Annette said. "You're not paying much attention tonight, are you?"
More like his attention was all fixed on a certain someone.
"I guess not," he muttered. Felix crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall.
Had he actually been looking at her, he would have seen her eyes follow his to Sylvain. Had he been paying attention, he would have seen the sadness in her gaze and realized she knew what was going on and had decided to comfort him.
"Do you think you could teach me some swordplay?" she asked.
"Hm?" That broke him out of his haze. "You want to learn swords?"
"Well," she paused, "not like you do. But I figure a little knowledge could go a long way with it. Like if I run out of spells!"
"That's true," he admitted. "I guess I could teach you some things."
He continued to babble on about the only topic of which he would babble and completely missed Annette's smile as his attention didn't turn to Sylvain again.
Edelgard bowed her head before separating from her.
Lysithea hid her pleased smile behind a blush. Even adults could be embarrassed, right? Especially when the future Emperor just danced her around the room.
The warmth that had filled her for the past minutes slipped away as she walked away from the dancefloor. It was back to not having company at the dance.
Linhardt would have been her first choice to spend time with. Caspar had left early after drinking too much (she'd tried to talk to him, to have him ease up, only to be rebuffed). Bernadetta hadn't even come to the dance. Monica flitted to every person she could, seeming to have the time of her life. Ferdinand had spoken to her quite a bit which was nice, though he seemed to have found a good dance partner in Dorothea. And Dorothea of course spent time with her Deer, not that she'd ever like Lysithea to begin with.
And Hubert was…somewhere.
Her friendship with Edelgard was incredible. Finally, finally someone saw her for who she was. Competent, smart, not a child. Though friendship was tenuous, if the kisses Edelgard had stolen over the past month were anything to go by. Perhaps she was in for more.
Politically it was incredible for her. House Ordelia was on the verge of collapse and without an heir after she expired. If she married the Emperor, then her house could defect to the Empire and be spared its woes. Edelgard would take care of them.
And the resources she'd have at her disposal, who was to say she couldn't cure herself? Garreg Mach was one thing, but the entirety of the Empire meant so many more possibilities. Hanneman had told her himself that back when he lived there, the sheer amount of scholarly knowledge hidden there was incredible.
But of course, therein lied several problems. The first was that the Empire did not approve of two women wedding. Though with how Edelgard spoke about change, Lysithea had a feeling that wouldn't stop her. The woman was far too driven to succeed to let prejudice stop her, in fact, those were the types of things she wished to eradicate from the world.
Then there was the fact that she didn't love Edelgard.
Not to say she didn't like her. She admired her, respected her, adored her. Love her? Lysithea just didn't feel it. She'd not object to something physical with her, Edelgard was gorgeous. But there was more to it than just that. Edelgard had feelings for her. She'd said as much.
Such was her problem. String Edelgard along for her selfish gain or break ties and lose everything?
Maybe I could fall for Edelgard, she argued with herself. Perhaps there was room for romance amidst her goals.
But to potentially damn her closest friend on a lie? It made her sick.
She sighed. None of it would be decided today. Lysithea plucked a tart from a table and nibbled at it, waiting for Edelgard to finish dancing with others so that she could have someone to spend time with.
"I'll admit, I did not expect you to be much of a dancer," Dorothea admitted.
"Well, I've gotten a lot of practice," Ferdinand answered, twirling her around. "Plus, I had the pleasure of seeing you perform once, perhaps it rubbed off on me."
"Did you now?" she asked, surprised. "It shouldn't shock me anymore, it seems every noble in the Empire saw me perform at some point."
They moved to the music, not even thinking about the steps. It was ingrained in their beings, reflex with each note that was plucked from the harp. To them, this was their stage, their battlefield, above all others.
"Rightly so, you were an incredible performer. The country was dazzled with you." Ferdinand said. "So many people I knew had dreams to woo you."
"Were you one of them?" she asked, half teasing.
Ferdinand laughed. "Oh, perhaps for a bit, but I think I was more enchanted with the opera itself. That, I fell in love with."
"Ever considered acting, Ferdie? It seems like something suited for you."
"I'd be curious to give it a try someday, but I don't think it'd be for me. I love to listen to stories, not act them." He smiled widely and they danced in a moment of silence while he searched for words. "Forgive me, but I would not have guessed you and I could be rather civil to each other."
It was Dorothea's turn to laugh. "In my time in the Deer, I've come to miss some of you Eagles. Even you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder?"
"I thought you were out for me," he admitted, nearly missing the next step. "Was I mistaken?"
"No, there was something…" She paused. "It's not important anymore. Let's just say you're a better person than I took you for. Lorenz speaks highly of you."
"A man does not turn down a compliment from a gorgeous woman," he chuckled.
"Why, Ferdie! You can banter!" Dorothea said in faux astonishment. "Had I known this before, mayhaps I wouldn't have left the Eagles."
"Are the Deer to your liking?" he asked after a bout of laughter. "Pardon me for asking, but you've seemed rather sad around the monastery these past few weeks."
"Ah," Dorothea said, growing cagey. "Well, I've just some complicated feelings at the moment."
"Care for a second perspective?"
"Well." She bit her lip. "Let me tell you a story and pretend this is not analogous for myself."
Ferdinand chuckled, and she began.
"Once upon a time," she said, a new song beginning as they began to dance to a slower tune, "there was a beautiful princess. She was strong, fierce, loyal, and above all else, kind. Many fell for her, how could they not? Beauty does not often intersect with those qualities. But chiefly among these people were two knights.
"Each fell for her, their desires only to spend their days with her. But therein laid the problem, the two knights were friends. To pursue such a desire would rend their friendship asunder, no doubt. The first knight was oblivious to his friend's feelings, but the second knight noticed and was far too scared to make a move.
"But the princess had other plans, she fell just as hard for the first knight, her constant protector. For he was handsome, strong, gentle, and above all else, kind. Suddenly, he was placed in a precarious position that he did not know what to do about.
"The second knight noticed. How could he not, as they were longtime friends. There was melancholy at first, a sadness at the way things were unfolding. But when he saw his friend with the princess, he saw real happiness in their eyes, both in the princess and the man he called friend.
"He plucked up the courage and pulled his friend aside one day. He told him that the first knight had his blessing and to pursue the relationship. The second knight's lie broke at the last second, and that sadness slipped in. But still, he assured the first knight that he should wed the princess, that he would be fine.
"The first knight and the princess were married and lived happily. The second knight was happy for them, but never could quite smile the same way he did when speaking to the princess."
"It's a beautiful story," Ferdinand murmured. "Bittersweet, but beautiful. You seem to know it well."
"I played the princess once," Dorothea chuckled. "One of my first roles."
"I would have loved to see that performance," Ferdinand said.
"To this day, I still have not decided," she said, "whether the second knight made the right decision. Sure, he was noble about it, but was he not sad for the rest of his days?"
Ferdinand was silent for a full minute, thinking. Dorothea did not pressure him, content to move to the music.
"I think both answers have merit," he concluded. "To step aside as the knight did is noble and selfless and the mark of a true friend. But to condemn yourself to sadness such as that? It takes a powerful person to do so."
"The princess probably wouldn't have reciprocated his feelings," Dorothea pointed out.
"True," Ferdinand answered. "But never trying means we have to live with it for the rest of our days not knowing. Better to try and fail than never at all, in my eyes."
The song came to a close and Dorothea stepped back.
"You've given me a lot to think on," Dorothea said. "If you don't mind…"
"By all means," he said, allowing her to withdraw.
"Thank you, Monica," Sylvain said, bending to kiss her hand. She allowed him to before flitting away. A strange one, that one.
But he'd done it, danced with every student. Well, except one.
Thank the Goddess he was tall. Locating Felix was easy. Being the loner he was, the man leaned against one of the far walls brooding. Annette leaned next to him, even from this distance clearly running her mouth. Someone who didn't know her would have taken her for a chatterbox. Sylvain knew the look of someone filling silences to comfort.
After all, he did it to Felix all the time.
Brushing off several requests for more dances, Sylvain cut his way through the crowd. Annette noticed him first, her eyes widening. Felix didn't bother looking at him.
"Annette," he greeted with a wide smile. "Enjoying the festivities?"
"Of course!" she exclaimed. "This dance is far better than any I've been to before. The food is way better."
Sylvain laughed. "Well, that's certainly always the most important part of a party. Would you excuse Felix and I for a moment?"
She looked between the two, extremely aware of the tension. Annette nodded slowly. "Felix, come find me if you need me." Retreating from the two, she cast one look behind her again before going off to find Mercedes.
"Felix," Sylvain greeted.
"Get whatever you want done with. You scared off my company," Felix growled.
He blinked, filing that strange friendship away for later before throwing on a smile. Not his usual, the kind that masked agony, but a softer one, a true one. "I just wanted to ask you to dance with me."
The noble scoffed. "Finishing your rounds with me?"
"If you want to look at it that way," Sylvain said, almost hurt. "But no one is going to question the whore of Gautier for dancing with everyone at the ball, least of all your father."
Felix was silent.
"You'll have to tell me what he calls me this time," Sylvain said through laughter. "Will he call me whore? Slut? Philanderer? Something worse? I'll admit I've a morbid curiosity."
"This was your plan?" Felix asked quietly.
"Oh, I can't take credit for all of it. But better your father hate me than give more contention to your relationship. Plus, there's no way I'd let someone take away from me a dance with the man I want." Sylvain's face had lost all its mirth. It was serious, asking questions better left unsaid. Do you want this? Do you want me? Is what I'm prepared to do for you enough?
Do you love me back?
"You're an idiot," Felix hissed. But he extended a hand.
Sylvain smiled and took it. "I'm aware. Guess you'll need to stick around to keep me in check."
Felix was pulled in close, closer than Sylvain had held anyone he'd danced with that night. Sylvain bent his head down for the briefest of moments. "Sneak away with me after this dance, I have somewhere we can be alone."
His lover nodded, saying nothing. Sylvain had rendered him speechless, something he was proud of. And if he had looked up at that moment, he would have seen Annette trying not to cheer and make a scene. He would have seen her happiness for them.
But their eyes were on each other, memorizing every moment of their first dance.
Somewhere amidst the slew of people asking her to dance, Byleth had lost track of Mercedes. There was a light stumble in her step, having drank a little too much.
She blamed it on Seteth instead of herself. The man had procured such excellent wine for the ball. How could she not help herself?
"Chin up, kiddo," a gruff voice said, holding back laughter.
"Dad?" she asked, whirling around. "What're you doing here?"
"Here to play chaperone for you. You handle your drink worse than you used to." Jeralt was still dressed in his regular armor, making him standout amidst the students.
"I thought you were guarding the chapel?" Byleth asked, ignoring the jibe.
Jeralt nodded. "I am, but my shift ended. Figured I'd stop in, see how you were doing. Enjoying the night?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling. "But I think I've danced more than anyone ever will in their life."
He laughed at that, the booming laughter drawing some gazes. "Mercedes enjoying herself too?"
Byleth blushed. "Yes. I was just looking for her now."
"Can I steal a few minutes for a dance? I'm rusty, but too selfish to care," Jeralt chuckled.
She rolled her eyes. "With that charm, it's a wonder that you wooed mother." Byleth stepped closer to her father and let him begin to lead.
Another laugh. "Well, I always wondered what she saw in me too. Figured it had to be my wit."
"We're going to have to work on that in the next few years," Byleth mumbled.
"Speaking of the next few years, you considering staying on here after the year closes?" he asked. "We can do whatever you want, baby girl."
Byleth bit her lip. "I think I like it here. Maybe another year, just to see if it was a fluke."
Jeralt quirked his lips into a smile. "Sounds like someone's snakebit. If I told Sitri we'd have a daughter who was a teacher, she'd laugh to no end."
"You think she'd be proud of me?" Byleth asked in a small voice.
Jeralt looked at her with what could only be described as love in his eyes. "Yes, she would consider herself the luckiest mother alive, as I do as a father. You've done so well, Byleth."
She looked away, lest she cry. But she smiled. "Thank you, daddy."
They said nothing for the rest of the dance, just lost in their own world. The music slowed to a stop, as did their feet.
"Well, I ought to stop slacking," he chuckled. "Got an early morning tomorrow. You're helping out with the guard shift tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah, Archbishop's orders," Byleth said. "Going to sluff off work on my students?"
"Isn't that what they're for?" he chuckled. "I'll see you in the morning, By."
He turned around a waved a hand in farewell. Byleth turned around and scanned the room for Mercedes. Ah, there she was, talking to Annette across the room. Byleth smiled, pushing her way through the crowd. Perhaps they could dance for a while longer yet.
Or sneak away. Byleth had heard of the Goddess Tower, where wishes between lovers were said to come true. It was stupid superstition, but Mercedes would like it. That was enough for her. And after that, she wanted to give Mercedes a night to remember. Byleth pushed past more people, wondering how she could shake Annette to have time alone with her lover.
A woman screamed.
Dancers stumbled in their steps, knocked out of their romantic reveries. Confused murmurs tittered about the couples. The music fell silent, replaced by students beginning to cry out in horror. Byleth's hand fell to her side, a reflex to the sword that wasn't there. The cacophony of voices rose and Byleth pushed her way through several students.
Her scream joined the others.
Her father's body was crumpled on the ground as Monica stood over him, holding a wicked, curved knife. She looked at Byleth and blinked innocently, as if realizing she was there. "Sorry, dear," Monica said, uncaring. She turned heel and ran while the shock reigned.
Byleth's feet moved on their own and she was at her father's side. "Dad?"
"Dammit," grunted Jeralt. His face was wracked with pain. A hand covered the wound, but it did little to stop the blood pooling out.
"Father!" Byleth screamed. "A healer, someone! Anyone! Hurry!"
The ballroom erupted into chaos, students running in fear. A knight made it to her side and began to weave a healing spell.
But life did not return to his eyes.
The healer tried again. And again. And again.
Jeralt Reus Eisner had passed into the Goddess' hands.
Byleth wailed.
Dark magic was an incredible tool, it was why he favored it. The greater one's intelligence, the stronger they became. It made an excellent pairing with his role.
It was also acidic. The droplet of darkness that had burned into the lock got as far as it could before rupturing, blasting the lock off the door, briefly illuminating the darkest dungeon of Garreg Mach.
"Well," a wizened voice gasped. "She sent her dog to fetch me?"
Hubert frowned. "Kronya's piece is done. We're in the clear, but expedience would be a boon."
"Hmph, no need to tell me, boy," Solon huffed as he walked out of the cell. He leaned on his cane, which he'd been allowed to keep. "I hope you aren't counting on me for your escape."
Hubert shook his head. "I have my own out."
"Smart boy, maybe Thales will make something of you," Solon mused. "Any word from Myson?"
"None." Hubert crossed his arms. "Not since Linhardt."
"Is that anger in your voice, boy?" Solon asked, looking over at him.
"My liege has lost one of her allies. No, I am not pleased."
Solon's raspy laughed echoed in the dungeon. "You've the might of Agartha on your side, there's no need for a fop like him. He was digging too deep into Kronya's cover. It was necessary."
"So you say," Hubert scowled.
"Hmm, does the dog have some feelings?" Solon asked, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "Careful not to bite the hand that feeds, dog." With his cane, he began to draw glyphs on the floor.
"Where is Myson?" Hubert asked, ignoring the insult.
"Working on a pet project," Solon said. He chuckled. "We've plans if your princess doesn't pan out."
"Is that a threat?" Hubert asked.
Solon looked at him for a moment. "Yes," he said as his lips curled. He drew the last glyph with his cane and then vanished in a flash of magic.
Hubert scowled and turned heel, exiting the dungeon.
Author Notes: Back with one hell of a chapter. It just kept getting longer and longer as I slowly worked on it and remembered scenes I needed to put in. Kudos if you know your FE history enough to pick up on the support conversation Dorothea's story references, my personal favorite in the entire 16 game series.
Editing Notes:
5/3/2021: Minor grammatical adjustments. Revised the Byleth/Jeralt scene to better work the pacing.
9/4/2021: Minor grammatical adjustments. Corrected a continuity error.