Golden Zero16- Thanks for reviewing! I don't want to spoil too much, obviously, but I'll answer your question as best as I can. In general, yes, this is going to continue focusing on the Almyran story rather than what is going on with Byleth and Fódlan. Chapters 8-15 will primarily set up the main cast. That being said, there will be appearances from more characters in the game than just Claude and Dimitri. The size of these roles will vary. I'm not sure how much I can say without ruining anything, so I'll focus on getting the chapters written and let them speak for themselves! Thanks again!

Chapter 12

Day 27 of the Horsebow Moon, Imperial Year 1176

Dimitri was stirred back to consciousness when he heard a nearby door open and footsteps enter the room. His eyes remained closed, however, while the person sitting by his bedside peeled off the saturated bandages on his back and replaced them with clean ones. This process was associated with some amount of pain, but Dimitri's mind was too preoccupied to care.

"How is he?" the newcomer asked. Dimitri recognized the voice as that of his uncle Rufus.

"Dimitri's breathing is more good. He has... pain, but he will live," Dedue responded as he began to clean the bloodied bandages in a bowl. His control of Fódlan's primary language was not spectacular, but he could convey his point.

"I wasn't asking you," Rufus retorted.

Lord Rodrigue, who was sitting alone in the corner, answered in Dedue's place, "Stable, though progress has been slow. Where have you been, Rufus? You made the trip to Camulus on pretense of seeing His Highness two days ago, and yet this is the first time you've come to this room."

Dimitri had been transported to the cathedral city of Camulus rather than the capital for convalescence. The journey to Fhirdiad was considered more treacherous, and the capital was deemed potentially unstable for the time being. The priests in Camulus were capable of providing as good of medical care as could be found in Faerghus.

When presented with the choice of maintaining order in Fhirdiad or properly tending to the wounded prince, Rufus had somehow failed to achieve either. Even so, he justified, "Sorry, but I've been quite busy since arriving."

"My son is dead, and yet I've found the time." Rodrigue's tone was not overtly aggressive, but each word found its mark.

Dimitri's uncle was clearly becoming defensive. "Your son's death is a tragedy, but my brother's death has left far more paperwork. There are countless people I've had to discuss the current situation with. Business must be attended to, even with the prince's injuries."

Rodrigue pondered, "Who are these people, I wonder? The other lords? I would be interested to know what they had to say. Or are they just your friends?"

"There are many people, Rodrigue," Rufus snapped back. "I am the acting regent now, and I am not required to share anything with you if I so desire. Lambert might have done so, but my brother is dead."

As he could not turn over to see, Dimitri was forced to imagine what Rodrigue's blistering gaze of disapproval must have looked like. With no reply, Rufus continued, "Where are the real doctors in this city? And why are we even letting this man anywhere near the prince? His people are what got us into this mess. To think he has the gall to show his face here after the prince was injured on his behalf!"

"The physicians have already come and gone after ascertaining that Prince Dimitri would recover. Some of our soldiers received injuries during the counterattack that need attention more urgently. Dedue here is keeping constant vigil willingly. I have observed his actions, and he has given no reason to suspect him. He's just a boy, Rufus."

"Just a boy? He's already taller than I am. And he'll remember the punishment we mete out on his people. It's only a matter of time before he turns against us. I will not be held responsible for whatever he does."

"I am willing to bear the weight of that guilt should it happen," Rodrigue said. "It is my opinion that there are far greater threats to Faerghus's future right now than this boy, though."

Rufus did not speak immediately, likely trying to decide if Rodrigue was implying he was a liability. He eventually decided to move on to another topic. "It's beyond comprehension that the knights who did this are still walking free right now. They should be immediately expelled from service at the very least. A more appropriate punishment would be the pillory or the block."

Rodrigue contended, "His Highness was not able to say much during the journey from Duscur, but he was very adamant that the knights not be punished on his behalf. The injuries were not deliberate."

"He would have been in a half-delirious state at the time. His judgment should not be relied upon."

"Even so, we must hold to his word for now and reassess when Dimitri is in a condition to do so."

Though speaking would hurt, listening to the two men debate his best interests was even more irksome. Dimitri lifted his head just enough to mutter, "I meant what I said. And I want Dedue to stay. That isn't negotiable."

There was a delay as everyone likely recoiled in surprise to discover that he was conscious. Rufus then noted blandly, "Ah, I see he is awake. There is no need for me to stay, then."

The new regent paused at the door before he left. He said to Dedue, "And one more thing. He's not 'Dimitri' to you, 'boy.' He is 'Your Highness', Prince Dimitri Blaiddyd of Faerghus. You should remember that if you have any hope of being tolerated here."

"Sorry. I was not trying to give you anger," Dedue answered evenly.

Rufus grunted in reply and finally departed.

"Don't listen to him," Dimitri managed to say. The last thing he needed was someone else ignoring his name in favor of tiring honorifics.

Dedue declined, "Impossible, Dimit-… Your Highness. To serve you... I must talk as so. Please... rest."

Dimitri struggled through a sigh. All Uncle Rufus had to do was show up for a minute to find a way to make matters worse.

Opening Moves- Day 18 of the Harpstring Moon, 1186 (Fódlan Calendar)

Dimitri slowly circled Khalid's courtyard as he considered his position. He was now officially Khalid's retainer or servant or whatever word they used for it, but he was not quite sure what that meant for him. What would his daily duties look like? How was he supposed to address Khalid? The best foundation he had to work with was his experience as liege to Dedue. However, Dimitri found himself frequently frustrated with Dedue's formality and utter abandonment of his own interests and needs. Would Khalid feel the same?

"You wake early, I see. That will suit you well in this job," Ariella joked as she groggily exited her room. She seemed to wake up some more when noticing Dimitri's expression. "What troubles you?"

Dimitri had woken up early due to a nightmare. Patricia was berating him for failing his stepsister, insisting that he could have saved her from her dark path. Telling him that the Tragedy would never have occurred had he let the mother and daughter meet in Fhirdiad.

He thought it best to spare Ariella those details. He sat down on the rim of the courtyard's fountain and asked, "Ariella… Could you perhaps provide me more details on my role here? Thinking about what I should be doing has kept me up. I don't even know how I am supposed to address Khalid."

His companion sat down beside him. "So... you are not accustomed to fulfilling a subservient role, are you? I thought as much. Well, you're in luck on one account. Khalid doesn't like it when I use honorifics, so I assume you're free to avoid those as well."

Thank the goddess. It was difficult enough to remember calling him "Khalid" instead of "Claude."

Ariella continued, "As for what you should be doing, I can certainly help with that. The first thing is to prepare Khalid's breakfast, which we can work on together. We'll get to eat some of it as well. It will be a little while before he wakes up and finishes meditation, though, so we're in no rush." She then smiled a bit mischievously. "In the meantime, I'm a bit curious about you, Dimitri. What is your story? Why did you come here?"

"I lost everything in the same battle that Khalid lost. He is my last friend, and I had nowhere else to go."

"Okay. If I accept that, it would explain why you would want to come. But why would Khalid allow it?"

"Is being his friend not a good enough reason?"

"Maybe, but Khalid is the kind of person who always has an extra reason for anything he does. Bringing you all the way here would have been difficult, and keeping an attendant from Fódlan risks bringing some negative attention. I'm willing to bet that there is a second reason, if not three. So tell me- what is your life story?"

Khalid had already helped Dimitri develop a fabricated background for such a scenario during their journey to Astane. Practicing it with Ariella would be beneficial, since she was unlikely to be an enemy.

"My parents were appraisers- estates, art, businesses, all of it. They were wealthy enough to get me into Fódlan's Officer's Academy, which is where I met Claude… or Khalid, as you know him. Becoming a knight was considered a great honor where I was from."

"And where are you from?"

"A port village in Fraldarius territory called Sidonius. None of this means anything to you, so why ask?"

Ariella chuckled. "You must be relatively bright to provide such quick answers, or you at least know how to prepare well. I'm sure Khalid helped with that. It doesn't improve your ability to lie, though."

"If you are so perceptive, just what is the truth, then?" Dimitri asked, a little annoyed to be brushed off so easily after what felt like a good effort.

"Like I've already said, you don't seem experienced in subservient roles. There's something about the way you talked to Khalid yesterday, or even the way you stood next to him… it's almost as if you act as his equal. That means you are probably a noble, maybe even a royal. You sometimes talk like one, too, when you are in a good mood. But there's also something of a lonely glint in your eye, and a hunch of the body when you think no one is looking. Perhaps a disgraced noble, then? And while you do not complain of it, your body language suggests that you aren't entirely comfortable with the heat here. Are you from northern Fódlan?"

Dimitri quietly squirmed in response. If she was always this perceptive, he was beginning to see why Khalid had employed her.

Ariella smiled knowingly. "Alright, I won't bother you any more about it. If Khalid does not want me to know, then I'm sure he has his reasons. And don't worry, I'll do what I can to help acclimate you to your new position. Hopefully no one else will have time to make the same observations before you're a natural." She jumped up and offered Dimitri a hand. "Let's start with that breakfast, shall we?"

Ariella led Dimitri to the palace's kitchens, where she then introduced him to her Almyran culinary knowledge. The food was quite similar to that in Shomal, so it no longer offered him any major surprises. Several other servants milled about the kitchens, but they left the pair alone. Ariella was kind enough to keep the mood light even though Dimitri struggled some with the cooking. She even managed to make Dimitri smile once or twice.

Things were going well right up until Ariella nearly collapsed as they began to carry their trays back to Khalid's courtyard. Dimitri managed to grab her with one hand before she fell, but it was too late for one unfortunate plate that hit the ground and shattered.

"Are you alright?" Dimitri queried. Ariella had mentioned her condition the night before, and he had noticed its effects on several occasions. Even so, this was the first time he had seen it negatively affect her life in a meaningful way.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Just a spasm. This happens from time to time. Good thing you were here or it would have been worse."

"Time to time? You said last night that the issue was very minor."

"I… may have exaggerated," Ariella said slowly. "The truth is, there were times Khalid had to watch over me when my seizures rendered me unconscious. They usually aren't quite as bad as they used to be, but still… I should have been more honest with you. I just don't like people worrying over me."

Dimitri shook his head. "Think nothing of it. Please, let me know if there is any way I can assist."

Ariella smiled appreciatively and indicated that she felt well enough to walk again. After cleaning the mess left behind, the two walked back to their quarters with the surviving plates. Khalid must have spotted them from one of his windows, as he was already descending the stairs when his attendants entered the courtyard.

"It's a bit stuffy in here today. Let's take this out on the plaza," Khalid said as he waved them back towards the tunnel.

"We'll probably have to deal with some of the others if we do," Ariella observed as she stopped.

"I'm well aware, but there's no use avoiding that forever."

Dimitri and Ariella offered no further resistance as they followed him back outside. As Dimitri had hoped, they set up at the far end of the plaza facing the waterfalls. They ate for some time in peace speaking of unimportant matters before they were joined by someone.

"It's not a good day for viewing the falls. The wind is blowing all of the steam this way. You can't see hardly anything," the guest noted as he squinted into the distance with his arms crossed.

Khalid looked up. "Hello to you, too, James. Sorry that we did not get to speak yesterday." He then raised a plate and asked, "Do you want any of this?"

James laughed dryly. "Forgive me, but it will take a few more good years before I have any interest in eating food offered by you again."

"Then what is your reason for coming over?"

"Just to chat," James shrugged. "And I thought it polite to introduce your new retainer to my own attendants, since I doubt you've found them high enough priority to mention yet."

James waved his three attendants over, who had been waiting quietly behind. "From left to right, these are Issachar, Amin, and Theodora."

Theodora was obviously Meteoran, but not much else stood out to Dimitri. They appeared to be in good physical condition, but none of them were obvious choices for bodyguards nor domestic workers. They politely acknowledged Khalid's group and then departed. James remained behind.

"So… what have you and Abbas been up to these past few years?" Khalid asked him.

"Abbas spent much of it carousing with his friends in the streets of Istakhr. When he was sober, he'd work on developing opportunities for the other expunged children. Court positions, education, and the like. He started to put in a bit more effort after Shahid died. As for me, I spent much of it traveling. Shomal, Meteora, Saba… all of Almyra, really."

"I'm surprised to hear that. Soraya said she didn't know much about you, so I assumed you never visited Astane."

James shook his head. "I didn't spend much time there. I wanted to see the real Almyra, not the city that we prop up for goggling merchants. I stayed far longer in a fishing village twenty miles away. I tried to keep a low profile, too."

"Low profile? You must have been without much of a security detail, then. I'm surprised father would allow that, especially after what happened in Metanoiapolis."

James grinned humorlessly. "Issachar and Theodora were with me, while Amin stayed here to watch over my interests. But yes, there was no one else. Father is not nearly protective of Abbas or myself as he is of you, even after the Dékhomai incident."

"With such freedom, did you ever venture outside of Almyra?" Khalid asked, notably not contradicting James's claim.

James continued to smile. "No. I'm a prince of Almyra, not Albinea or Dagda. What goes on outside of this land is of no concern to me, so long as they keep it out of our home."

Dimitri sensed a debate brewing, but James made his exit before it could ensue. The middle brother told them, "Looks like Abbas is on his way over. That's good enough reason for me to see myself out. Try not to upset him too much, Khalid."

There was only a very brief interval between James's departure and Abbas's arrival. The eldest sibling was accompanied by his set of three servants. This time, it was quite obvious that all three attendants were brought in as extra sets of muscles. The two women looked like they could probably overpower anyone from James's group.

"Dimitri, is it?" Abbas began. "This man here is Parviz. The two women are Janan and Parveen. Try to remember them." He then motioned to the women, "Parviz and I can handle ourselves."

Janan and Parveen nodded and took off to whatever chore they had next without any sort of farewell to the others.

"I heard James did some traveling while I was gone," Khalid said to keep the conversation moving. "Did you not think to join him?"

Abbas scoffed, "Why waste my time sightseeing? There were more important things to handle. And from the sound of it, you didn't accomplish much more than sightseeing while across the Throat."

"Actually, I learned quite a bit from my time there. Wisdom, experience, perspective… those kinds of things? Though maybe you aren't interested in those."

"Why should I care? What good ever came from Fódlan? All I know of are your mother's ideals that crushed centuries of our traditions and butchered our people, and a plague that killed half of the rest."

Khalid likely decided there was no use reasoning with him, so he remained quiet. Abbas then addressed Dimitri, "So… you really are from over there, aren't you? Not just some Meteoran playing a joke?" When Dimitri nodded, the eldest prince noted, "I suppose my brother needed a bodyguard since Ariella can't do much more than sample his food. You fit that description. Just how tall are you?"

Dimitri stood so that the two men could size him up. Abbas and Parviz were nearly as tall and had just as much bulk, but he knew they stood little chance in a test of raw power.

"Tell me, were you considered strong by Fódlan's standards?" Abbas asked.

"Strong enough."

"And were you good at horseback riding?"

"I was told as much."

Abbas crossed his arms. "So, could you hit a target with an arrow at fifty feet while on horseback?"

"You did not specify the size of the target. But regardless, I was never trained to use a bow while riding."

Abbas and Parviz looked at each other for a second and then bellowed with laughter.

Khalid's brother shared, "Every warrior from the Tabarzin I've spoken with claims that the knights of Fódlan are terrible on horseback, but I wasn't sure if I should believe them. Please tell me this isn't the best Fódlan has to offer, Khalid. It's one thing to be bad at it, but they don't even try to teach them at all?"

Despite being addressed, Khalid once again declined getting involved. Everyone's attention turned back to Dimitri, who stared at them silently.

"What? You aren't even going to defend yourself?" Abbas asked.

"What did you expect, Abbas? He's a coward, just like the rest of his people," Parviz interjected.

Parviz faked a lunge at him, to which Dimitri did not even flinch. "Is he asleep, or just frozen in fear? Maybe physical touch will help revive him?"

When Parviz laid a hand on Dimitri's shoulder, the former prince of Faerghus finally drew the line. Dimitri swiftly grabbed the man's hand and twisted him into a wristlock. Dimitri then clutched Parviz by his coat and effortlessly lifted him clean off the ground with just one hand. Dimitri ignored the sound of tearing fabric from the clothing of the man suspended in the air.

"Do that again, and I'll crush your arm. Do it to Khalid, and it will be your neck," Dimitri said in a deep but calm voice. He then let go and sat back down as Parviz stumbled backwards. Parviz and Abbas both backed away before finding the courage to speak again.

"You, umm… you should still work on your archery," Parviz muttered. He then nodded as if satisfied with this incisive insult.

Abbas grabbed his attendant by the shoulder and beckoned him away. "Speaking with him is a waste of time. He's just a churl employed by a snake."

Parviz did not need any more encouragement. He and Abbas scurried off with no further pomp.

Once they were gone, Khalid mused, "You just soundly humiliated my brother in a few short seconds. Where were you when I was a kid?"

Dimitri frowned. "I've seen the likes of Abbas and his friends countless times. Scoundrels who abuse the weak and vulnerable just because they can. They always cower when they face someone capable of fighting back. As for James… I don't know what to make of him."

Khalid answered that question as best as he could. "As a child, James constantly lurked in his elder brother's shadow and mimicked his every move. He was not nearly as vicious as Abbas, but he compensated for that by being a coward. He was sometimes actually kind to me when alone, perhaps out of pity, but the truce would quickly dissolve whenever Abbas showed his face again."

"That still puts him above the level of Abbas and his pack of dogs."

"Well, I hate to defend him, but Abbas does have a bit more reason to hate me than James." Khalid sighed when he realized Dimitri was ready for a longer explanation. "Where we are sitting right now was not always just the living space for the king's children. This was the royal harem. All the women of the royal household lived here- his wives, concubines, servants, and so on, along with any child they bore to the royal family until the boys came of age. The women and children were kept here completely sheltered from the outside world. Any child born to a king or prince and a member of this household was considered legitimate, even if the mother was not his wife."

"And these women? Did they not have the freedom to leave?"

"No, not really." When Khalid saw Dimitri's disgust, he added, "It shouldn't be entirely foreign to you. Maybe not so much in Faerghus, but Adrestia's emperor held numerous consorts. The consorts had more freedoms in some ways, yes, but in practice, their lives would not have looked so different. These women were generally well-educated and well-treated if you look past their, umm… expected obligations to the men of the royal family."

"Are you truly trying to justify the system?" Dimitri growled.

"What? No!" Khalid rubbed his forehead. "My family ended all of that, and I of course agree with that decision. I'm just trying to introduce a bit of nuance. Few things can be categorized as entirely pure or entirely malicious. It's easy to judge it as an outsider, but it was deeply engrained into our culture."

Dimitri grimaced, but he then remembered El. Remembered how he failed to understand her. Not to mention, his stepmother had been cornered into a somewhat similar life, even if the circumstances were different. "Yes, I understand," he muttered.

Khalid nodded. "But to get back on topic... Abbas was the son of a royal concubine. James's story is different, though. His mother was from the Attali family, which is a prominent house that maintains an estate in the Mikdash. They're about the only rich people leaving in those woods. Ella's mother worked there as a servant, which is how we first discovered her. This estate is very popular for hosting hunting parties, especially with the royalty. James was born out of poor judgment during one of these trips. Since his mother was not a member of our household, he was never considered legitimate. But Abbas… with the deaths of my sisters Shireen and Fahima, then followed by my eldest brother Shahid, he would have had a very strong claim to be next in line."

"What happened to change that?"

Khalid crossed his arms as his tone became even more serious. "There was a war you've already heard alluded to multiple times by now, when Elam joined with Meteora to fight Shomal and Saba. That conflict spiraled out of some decisions made by my father while he was still prince. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the system propping the royal harem. Around the time of Abbas's birth, he decided to let the women in the Dunya's harem live in peace going forward. A few years later, he met my mother, fell in love with her, and eventually convinced her to elope to Almyra. Like you, she was more than a little horrified by the harem system, which further enhanced my father's resolve to change things.

"Almyra was already in an uproar at my parents' surprise marriage. A woman from Fódlan infiltrating the royal family and possibly becoming queen? It was just too much to accept. There were serious indications that the discontentment was on the verge of precipitating into armed conflict. Many people, including my uncle, were openly calling for the whole thing to be annulled and my mother shipped back across the Throat. But Prince Faruq had a different plan. He went to his father, King Bardiya, and argued that if war was to come, they ought to raise the stakes by making it a war worth fighting. My father recommended outlawing the harems across all of Almyra. It would ensure conflict, yes, but Faruq's marriage would be validated as a part of a more meaningful settlement. Audacious as it was, Bardiya agreed to this strategy."

Dimitri interrupted, "So your grandfather also had grievances with the system, or did he have something else in mind?"

"I'm not sure, honestly. At the very least, he was not against my father's beliefs. Maybe it was for practical reasons. The harems left too many legitimate heirs, which was frequently leading to succession crises. The war may have been an opportunity to expand his influence over all of Almyra or to just enjoy a thrilling fight. Or maybe he admired my father's resolve and simply wished to see how it would play out. You can believe whatever version you want.

"Anyways, back to the official story. My grandfather sent out a pronouncement that all harems, whether royal, noble, or whatever, had to be disbanded within two months or they would face intervention by Elam's armies. The practice originated from Saba, and they were quick to oppose my grandfather's decree. Shomal joined with them less out of principle and more because they've historically been scared of any kind of change. Change means disruption, and disruption means economic instability. The Tabarzin and Meteora sided with Elam. My great uncle stayed loyal to his brother, and Meteora made for natural allies in this conflict. Harems had always been outlawed in their territory, and building relations with the king was seen as an opportunity to revive their influence."

"It sounds like your side was far stronger," Dimitri observed.

"In theory, but it was not so simple. Saba and Shomal were united in their goal. Meanwhile, many prominent figures in Elam and the Tabarzin were hesitant to support our cause… some even revolted. Meteora was apparently a bit difficult to coordinate with as well. The war could have gone either way. Of course, we won in the end. My parents' marriage survived, and the occupants of the harems were free to leave. As a byproduct of the harems being stamped out, though, many of the children born outside of official marriages were effectively delegitimized in the public eye. They are the 'expunged children' that James mentioned, though none of them are actually children anymore. All three of Abbas's servants were among them. Abbas shared their fate, and he holds my mother and I accountable for it. I got to live the life he thought belonged to him. Granted, the king still has the right to name anyone his heir, even someone illegitimate, but that was never enough to prevent Abbas's grudge."

"And what became of Abbas's mother?" Dimitri asked.

"She decided to stay here at the Dunya so she could be close to her son. Unfortunately, she died during the plague, so I never really knew her. Last I heard, James's mother is still living in the Mikdash. By his own choice, I don't think he sees her all that often."

Being reminded of James, Dimitri asked, "What was the incident in Metanoiapolis that you two discussed?"

"When James was around thirteen, he went to study in Meteora as a goodwill gesture from our alliance. While he was traveling the city one day, he was set upon and taken hostage by the Dékhomai. They hoped doing so would give them leverage for Elam to intervene on their behalf and put a stop to the persecution from the Sentinels and local government. Instead, we decided against negotiating with them and sent in our armies to help put an end to the chaos."

Dimitri frowned. "Were the Dékhomai set up as an excuse for violence?"

Khalid seemed to realize that his attendant was thinking of Duscur. "No, there's no question that they were guilty. I don't think they ever intended to hurt James, though. When it was clear that the game was up and Elam would not be deterred, they let him walk free. The whole affair was unfortunate. We did not step in to help the Dékhomai at first because we did not want to provoke yet another war, and while I don't believe Elam's soldiers participated in the worst of the slaughter, we did not do enough to stop it, either. I'm willing to bet it's my father's greatest regret of his reign."

Not sure how to move on from the heavy topic, the three of them fell into a silence for the rest of their meal. After they finished, though, Khalid closed his eyes and lounged. "While I really did appreciate the enthusiastic support earlier, please try not hurt anyone too badly, Dimitri. We don't have much in the way of healing mages here. Or anywhere in Almyra, really."

"How is that possible? Especially when Almyra is so much larger than Fódlan?"

"The Meteorans set the field back centuries when they were in power. Even before that, though, Almyra was already focused primarily on engineering and the natural sciences. Thanks to that, some of our technologies are more advanced than in Fódlan. Our ships are better built and armed, for example. However, the lack of expertise in magic is a real problem… one that we would learn the hard way if we ever went to war with Fódlan in earnest."

"I think you're being a little harsh on our talents," Ariella dissented. "The finest mage in all of the land lives in the Mikdash, and some of the locals in her area have been trying to pick up skills, too. It could be a real school in a few years."

"The finest mage in all the land? Living in the Mikdash?" Khalid repeated incredulously. "Sorry, but that doesn't make sense. I knew they practiced a little magic, but nothing worthy of garnering such a reputation. Where would someone even find the tomes to learn spells in a place like that? And if there was such a fabulous mage, I would certainly have heard of her."

"She's only been active for a few years now, so that's why you would never have heard of her. I don't know where the spells came from. Maybe she was a young survivor of the Dékhomai? She definitely looked Meteoran- pale skin, red hair- and she didn't want to talk much about herself, so that could be it. But regardless, no one back home questions her results. They call her the Ashen Angel because of how many lives she's saved. She even helped my cure my mother when she was very ill once."

Khalid snorted. "Heh, I've met an Ashen Demon before, so I suppose it was inevitable that I would eventually learn of her antithesis. Why does everything have to be 'ashen', anyways?" He then cleared his throat. "If she's that good, please tell me you made a visit to see if she could help with your condition?"

Ariella's face fell. "I did, but she wasn't able to do anything. If I was in the middle of a seizure, maybe, but nothing could be done about the underlying cause. But it really doesn't matter. I can still perform the tasks you need me for."

Khalid did not seem entirely satisfied by the response, but Ariella jumped up before he could speak. Once again grinning, she said, "Speaking of which, it looks like we're ready to clean things up here. Dimitri, could you help me with this?"

Dimitri and Ariella gathered up all of the trays and started back towards the kitchen. As they walked, Ariella told him, "I'm pretty sure Khalid feels I don't aspire to be enough in life. I guess spending seven years dusting someone's books is a little sad, isn't it?"

Dimitri stopped and looked her in the eye. "Don't undervalue your work. I had a servant once, you know. He entered my service at a time of life that I felt completely alone… completely purposeless. To be honest, he saved my life in more ways than one. I think you've been able to provide that for Khalid, so don't put yourself down."

Ariella's eyebrows rose. "Sons of appraisers get their own personal servants in Fódlan?"

This girl wouldn't overlook a single misstep, would she? "Like I said, my parents were wealthy," he croaked.

His fellow attendant beamed. "You really do need to watch what you say. But I appreciate the sentiment, Dimitri."

With the meal out of the way, Ariella walked Dimitri through the rest of their chores. This included tidying up the rooms, trimming the trees in the courtyard, laundering clothes and linens, and checking with the stable marshal to ensure that the wyvern set aside for Khalid's use was in good health. They were also in charge of preparing lunch for Khalid and relaying messages from a few officials that wanted to acknowledge the prince's return after having missed his arrival at the throne room.

The approach was certainly different from that in Faerghus. Back home, members of the castle staff had specialized responsibilities that were carried out for all members of the court. In Almyra, Ariella and Dimitri had many roles that they would fulfill specifically for Khalid's sake.

The rules for dinner were more familiar. The palace's cooks prepared dinner that would be served for the entire royal family. In general, other servants and officials were not included in this meal. The personal attendants, such as Ariella and Dimitri, acted as the sole exceptions. Even then, they sat on a tier below that of the king's family.

Ariella acted as one of the cooks for this meal, and she would also test Khalid's food before he ate from it. Dimitri offered to assist in this capacity, but Ariella was stubbornly opposed. "My good health has already been spoiled. Yours is far more important to Khalid than mine is at this point," she rationalized.

Despite feeling useless, Dimitri waited patiently until after all of the food was laid out and Ariella rejoined him.

When it was time to begin eating, Ariella put a hand on Dimitri's arm before he could reach for anything. "See that red tomato dish? It's called matbucha. Don't eat from it. Abbas came into the kitchen and insisted that he provide you a bit of extra seasoning as a welcome to Almyra. He drenched it with some pepper juice from Shomal. You'd probably have to drink the whole lake out there dry before your mouth stops burning. I would have switched it out with mine, but Abbas may have kept track of the plate. You can have some of mine when he isn't looking."

Abbas was clearly up to something, as he had chosen the position closest to Dimitri on the upper platform and was occasionally glancing in his direction. "Any chance that it was poisoned?" Dimitri asked Ariella, trying to heed Khalid's concerns.

"Unlikely, since everyone else in this room would be exposed as well. The peppers were already used in the rest of the batch… albeit in more reasonable doses. He just wants to embarrass you after what you did to Parviz earlier. Rather juvenile for someone pushing thirty, if you ask me."

"Ah, is that all?" Dimitri muttered. Cupping a piece of bread, he scooped out a large portion of the matbucha and quickly shoveled it into his mouth.

Ariella cringed in anticipation, while Abbas unsubtly smirked from above. After a few moments, Dimitri confirmed that… yes, he could sense a bit of spice. It was definitely diminished from what Abbas had planned for, but it was there nonetheless. Spiciness was one of the only feelings Dimitri could extract from food anymore. He did not necessarily like the sensation, but after years of tasting essentially nothing, it was a nice change of pace. As for the supposed pain… it was difficult to trouble Dimitri by that point.

"Incredible!" he exclaimed aloud. "The spice in this dish is marvelous. Who could have prepared such a delight?"

Ariella's mouth quivered for a moment, not sure how she was supposed to react. She eventually figured out Dimitri wanted her to play along. She bobbed her head in Abbas's direction and said, "Prince Abbas was thoughtful enough to introduce you to a secret recipe of his. 'An Almyran Welcome' he calls it."

Dimitri stood and bowed to Abbas, who watched every move in dismay. The servant announced, "Forgive me if I breach protocol by speaking, but I simply must compliment your work, Prince Abbas. This is without question the most powerful, memorable dish I've had since I was a child. I apologize for any misgivings on my part towards you after you spoke ill of me earlier. You are truly a generous man, ready to extend kindness without judgement to someone as lowly as I from a different walk of life."

Abbas prepared to speak at least three times before finally stuttering, "I, uhh, am glad you liked it."

There was some chatter and a stifled laugh or two as Dimitri sat back down. Ariella whispered in his ear, "You know, Dimitri, I think you and I have a long friendship ahead of us. Assuming you don't anger Abbas enough that he wants you dead, too."

The two conversed together for the rest of meal, given that none of the other attendants showed any interest in interacting with them. Ariella shared stories of Khalid's early escapades, while Dimitri told her of Claude von Riegan's pranks and "tactical retreats" while at the Officer's Academy. Khalid would not have been fond of either portrayal, but he was too far away to hear any of it.

Ariella was in the middle of another story when a servant quietly slipped into the room and handed the king a message. Dimitri watched as the king's eyes scanned the document for a minute or two. Faruq set it down and then rubbed his beard thoughtfully for another interval. Most people in the room had already forgotten about the interlude and continued on with their meal by the time King Faruq stood solemnly.

"I have just received a letter from my brother Mirza Ghalib," the king shared as gathered everyone's attention. "He expresses his joy at Prince Khalid's return, and he wishes to host a celebration in Khalid's honor. This invitation is extended to all of the foremost Almyran families. There will be a day of socializing and sport, and a second day of feasting and theatre."

Khalid silently shrunk in his cushion, leaving the queen to ask the question, "When is it to be held?"

"Not for another three months," Faruq conveyed. "That will allow time for him to make preparations, as well as for everyone else to make space in their schedules."

"And are you going to accept?" James then asked.

"It would be rude not to, especially if the other lords already plan to attend. And on a personal level, I think this is a unique opportunity to bring the entire family together again for the first time in many years. Life has been rather dull without something like this to look forward to."

The room was silent for a moment until Abbas loudly boasted, "I could not agree more, father! I'm particularly excited for the sporting events mentioned. This should be an excellent opportunity to see who has grown over the past few years and who has not."

With this clear approval for the trip, King Faruq sat down as everyone began to chatter amongst themselves. What sporting competitions would be included? Who would get to attend? What food could they expect? Probably the only person who had nothing to say about it was Prince Khalid, who sat quietly with his fingers interlocked.

When it was time to clean up, Ariella tapped Dimitri on the shoulder. "I'll take care of our work here. You go make sure that Khalid is alright," she said.

Dimitri nodded and joined Khalid as he headed towards one of the doors. The prince motioned for him to follow and then passed into the hall without missing a beat. Khalid moved at a brisk pace, which confused Dimitri until he realized that the prince was trying to catch up to someone. That someone was Queen Tiana.

"Mother… mother, wait!" Khalid called out until the queen finally stopped. "How did Ghalib know I was back?" he asked breathlessly.

Tiana frowned. "Your father sent out messengers after your arrival. I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind, but the timeline doesn't work," Khalid said as he shook his head. "There's no way a messenger could reach the Mirza's Citadel and a new one be dispatched in time to make it back here tonight. The only way it works is if my return was reported directly from Shomal. That means there are either Tabarzin spies in Astane or that Soraya is working behind my back."

"It's no secret that your uncle plants moles wherever he can. But holding festivities for your return is not unreasonable, or even unexpected. What do you think his plan is?"

"I can only think of two reasons why he would want to get a message out so fast. One is that he does not only want my return celebrated, but that he wished to ensure he volunteered to host before anyone else could. I don't know why, but it's probably not because he's been dying to show me his newest lauzinaj recipe. The other possibility is that he wants me to know that he has ears everywhere just to keep me constantly on guard. Either way, giving him a visit doesn't leave me with warm, fuzzy feelings."

"I understand your concerns, but the invitation went out to all of Almyra's leaders. If you were to decline the offer, it would reflect poorly on you. Maybe that's what he's counting on."

Khalid sighed. "If father wishes to accept, then I'll go, of course. I guess I just wanted to complain… and figure out if my concerns are shared."

"I've lived long enough to be suspicious of everyone, Khalid. Ghalib especially." Tiana smiled and put a hand on her son's shoulder. "I won't let him put a finger on you, I promise. If I need to, I'll deliver him to Fódlan's Locket all tied up with a letter announcing that he's free game. I might ask you to help me, though. It's a little embarrassing to make your mom do everything for you."

Khalid chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, uh, hopefully it won't come to that. But thanks for your support. I'll leave you to whatever you were doing before I so rudely interrupted."

"Goodnight, Khalid," the queen said before she continued on.

Khalid finally acknowledged Dimitri in a more meaningful way as they started back to their quarters. "So, how was your first full day? Is Ariella teaching you the basics?"

"Yes, she has been most helpful."

"Good, very good," the prince nodded. "But don't go too overboard with all of that. It's more important to me that you spend at least some of your time doing something else."

"And what is that?"

Khalid looked at him gravely. "Training. I need you prepared to fight, because I expect one to come. And I don't just mean Abbas and his entourage raring for a scuffle. I mean the real thing."

That much, at least, Dimitri understood well.