Extra pews had been brought in—those kept in reserve for times such as these. Space within the cathedral had been packed tight with this additional seating, forcing pews to be so close that the taller folk found themselves with their knees touching the backs of the seats in front of them. But the soon-to-be archbishop had insisted it be this way, stating that no one should be left standing for this hours-long ceremony.
She was in a small chamber within the monastery, a small little one that often served as the preparation room. Already, she was donned in her ceremonial garb—fitted robes made of the Church's official colors of white, dark blue, and gold. A cloak sat over it, one that wrapped around her shoulders and trailed several feet behind her. Its deep navy hue was embellished with gold embroidery that danced in intricate lines of patterning. Stitched between her shoulders was the insignia of Seiros, its patterning especially elaborate and enhanced with gold beads.
Only two pieces two her costume were left, lain out in front of her in a velvet-lined box. Her eyes stared down at them, yet her mind was focused on other thoughts. She envisioned the others who had stood in this room before her—brides being prepared to meet their lords at the altar, clergymen making final recitals before the sermons, and…
Lady Rhea, here before her own enthronement. How long ago it must have been. She wondered if the former archbishop had felt the same things she was feeling now.
There was a voice at the door. "The Church is assembled. We await your arrival."
"You make it sound as though we're going into battle, Seteth."
"Perhaps you should brace yourself all the same."
Nadine turned. "I didn't expect to hear a joke from you."
"I beg your pardon," Seteth apologized with a quick bow. "For some reason I find myself in a strange mood today."
"I'm the same. Today has simply felt… surreal."
"Certainly, it is one for the history books," was all Seteth simply replied. He gestured towards the velvet-lined box. "It's time. We should not keep the world waiting." He turned out to the hallway and indicated for someone to enter. In came a pair of young nuns. They positioned themselves behind Nadine, lifting the corners of her trailing cloak.
"Is the tail really necessary?"
"This has long been the traditional attire for the enthronement of the archbishop," Seteth explained, placing his hands behind his back in an austere manner. "Long, flowing clothing represents the grandiose role of the wearer—for he or she is to become leader of all followers of Seiros as not only their archbishop, but as their guiding light during their darkest days."
"How poetic."
"I might've said it with a little flair, but it is all true."
Nadine reached into the box, lifting the mitre hat to her head. It had felt heavy in her hands, and it was certainly heavy on her head. They had better get on with this ceremony before her neck snapped under the weight of the damned thing.
She had just lifted the scepter from the box, admiring its winged design, when another voice suddenly spoke up.
"Oh my, Professor! You look absolutely stunning!"
Nadine looked to the door, the mitre forcing her to keep her head movements to a minimum. "Why thank you, Flayn," she said with a brazen touch in her voice. She lifted her free hand, striking a silly, fashionable stance. "Even with the beehive hat?"
Flayn giggled. Her brother, on the other hand, looked far less unamused. "I would please ask that you conduct yourself a little more maturely," he reprimanded. To Flayn, he said, "She is no longer to be addressed as 'Professor,' dear sister. From today henceforth, she will be 'Archbishop.'"
"She will always be Professor to me."
"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Nadine interjected before Seteth could respond. The green-haired man gave her a look. "Now as you said, we ought to get going—quickly, before my beehive hat snaps my spine in two and you'll need to start your search for a new archbishop all over again."
Seteth stepped aside to let her through. Behind her, the nuns followed while carefully ensuring that the cloak hovered unsoiled above the ground.
"Mitre," he corrected under his breath. After Nadine had passed, he dropped his hands and hurried to her side. "All has been prepared, I assume? Your enthronement speech?"
"Prepared? Seteth, I've never once in my life memorized a speech."
"What? Then you haven't… and what of all those speeches to the troops during the war?"
"All from the heart," Nadine replied. "It's the only way I can be genuine. Otherwise I'd feel like I was reading them a script."
Seteth gave a relenting sigh. "Had I not witnessed those speeches myself, I would've been very worried."
"The speech doesn't worry me. The singing does." Part of the ceremony involved a song that involved all church members to participate. But it was to be initiated by the archbishop before other voices would join in. When Nadine had learned of this, she had spent half the evening trying to convince the cardinals to omit this part of the ceremony. When that failed, she spent the second half of the evening frantically rehearsing.
"Yes, I heard you engaged in quite the battle with the cardinals to skip over the song. And do you know why they refused you?"
"Because they're old and don't like change."
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Seteth said. "The song is a very important one—one that has not touched lips for decades, for it is only sung for the enthronement of the archbishop."
"So the last time was during Lady Rhea's enthronement?"
"Yes."
"What language is it in, Seteth? It was none that I had ever heard of."
"The lyrics are of a very ancient language—those spoken by the Nabateans. It fell into obsolescence with the people's fall. Allegedly, this was the very song that the Goddess would sing to those Children. So tradition made it into the song of the archbishop. Her leading of the song, and the joining of all voices, symbolizes that her relationship with the people is akin to the one between the Goddess and her Children. Now do you understand why the song must be kept?"
"Yes… although I'm not looking forward to it, I understand. I've always avoided situations where I have to sing in front of people. I'm not exactly Manuela, you know."
"You will be fine. Well, here we are—beyond here is the monastery's nave. You can already hear them from here. Come with me, Flayn. We must take up our positions. I will meet you inside, Archbishop." He gave Nadine a curt nod, and then turned on his heel to continue down the hall. Flayn followed him, though she looked over her shoulder to wave.
Nadine took a deep breath, lifting her hand to adjust the hair peeking out from under her mitre, and turned to face the grand double doors.
From behind, the sounds of the gathering suddenly hushed when the loud voice of a bishop announced the start of the ceremony. An organ began playing, its rich notes reverberating deeply across the cavernous nave. The double doors opened. Nadine lifted her chin as the light, colored by the stained glass windows, fell on her.
A short, carpeted pathway was before her that would bring her to the head of the nave where a pedestal and, behind it, a throne waited. The way was flanked by members of the Knights of Seiros. At the very end, Nadine spotted Alois.
To her right was the gathering that had amassed to witness the enthronement of the new archbishop—made up of commoners and lords alike. The sea of faces was too intimidating to gaze upon, so Nadine kept her eyes ahead.
One step forward. The archbishop had entered.
With the scepter held regally at her side, she made her way slowly down the carpeted path, passing one armored knight after another. Halfway down, she dared to give the pews a side-glance. Faces blurred in her peripheral returned her stare, and she quickly turned her eyes forward again.
When she reached the end of the pathway, she paused to wait for her cue to step in front of the altar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alois inch closer… then inch again… then again… all while keeping up the stance of a knight who wasn't up to something. Finally, when he had scooted close enough, he leaned over to Nadine.
"I'm proud of ya, kid," he murmured under the sound of the cardinal who was currently making a speech to the assembled crowd. "And I know Jeralt would've been too." Nadine looked up at him. Alois gave her a nod and a quick wink. Then, he added, "Love the hat, by the way." Chuckling to himself, he straightened up as the cardinal reached the last line of his speech and extended a hand towards Nadine in an invitation for her to step forward.
She ascended the few steps that led her up to the pedestal. The cardinal stepped aside. Nadine turned to the gathering as the entirety of the chapel gave her their undivided attention. Their combined gazes weighed down on her like boulders.
I just wanted to disappear.
Suddenly, her eyes fell on a certain part of the crowd. For a moment, she was unable to believe what she saw, but there was no mistaking that flame-red hair. And next to him—Ingrid? But they weren't alone. Sitting around them were a plethora of familiar faces, nearly everyone from the academy.
When had they arrived at Garreg Mach? It was no doubt that the news of the archbishop's enthronement had spread like wildfire across the continent, but she couldn't believe that had all come here on such short notice.
They had all come back to Garreg Mach.
A soft clearing of the throat caught her attention. Nadine looked over at Seteth, who gave her a prompting nod. Looking back out, she gave a deep breath. Speak from the heart.
"People of Fódlan; followers of Seiros—I am here before you as we all stand at the brink of an uncertain future. And when I think of the long, long path that led me here…"
The words were not coming to her. She knew her first day would be rough, but even with that expectation, not one bit of discomfort had been relieved. The bell had tolled over the academy grounds, signifying the start of class—yet here she was, still standing at the front of the classroom with students awaiting her first words.
Quickly, Nadine's eyes lowered down to the book on the desk before her. Curses—why, oh why, had Lady Rhea appointed her as a professor? She hadn't one shred of teaching experience! Nor was she even interested in teaching!
Even with this inner turmoil brewing within her, Nadine's posture was stony. The students were starting to feel a little off-put by their silent professor as she stared down at the book with an emotionless face. Curious glances were exchanged, though no one said a word and simply waited. This new professor was certainly living up to the expectation of being new—nothing more than a novice.
Annette's fingers tapped nervously on the book that had been set ready in front of her. She shot a puzzled glance to Ashe, who sat a few seats back. The freckled boy simply returned her an equally clueless shrug.
The look of bitter disdain grew on Felix's cold face as the seconds ticked by. Finally, he had reached the end of his short-lived patience. If this rookie of a professor wasn't going to teach them, he'd be off to the training grounds to get actual work done.
The legs of his chair scraped rudely against the stone as he stood. Eyes shot to him—only the professor's remained lowered. Felix paid them no mind as he marched towards the exit.
"Sit down," a soft voice suddenly commanded. Eyes turned back to the front. Felix glared towards the head of the classroom. "We are in class."
The book shut with a soft thud. Nadine lifted her eyes to meet Felix's steely ones. Finally, he abided and returned to his seat, though the reluctance had not left his face.
Her eyes turned to the rest of the class, subjecting every other student to her emotionless gaze. It caused a few to shift uncomfortably in their seats. It was terrifying to think that so many faces would be relying on her for guidance and support for the next year, so she tried not to. Nadine walked around to the front of the desk and leaned against it.
"How many of us here hail from nobility? Raise your hand." Her eyes skimmed over the class as the students obeyed. "How many consider themselves among the common folk?" Again, she surveyed the room. "Now raise your hand if you're not sure," she added with a light smirk. That elicited a chuckle or two from the room.
"From what I see, we're half and half. I just skimmed through the first page of the book we're supposed to base our lectures on. But what's in there will probably only apply to half of you—maybe less. The rest of you would be left out, wondering why I was teaching based on the circumstances of one's birth. I don't want to do that, so I won't. Instead, I'll do this."
She turned to the board that stood next to the desk, snatched up a piece of chalk, and wrote in large letters.
WHY DO I FIGHT?
She pressed the chalk against the board and ran it across, underlining the words. Then, Nadine pressed a finger up next it them. "I want you to take this and think very long and hard about this—I promise you, this isn't an easy answer to come up with. If it does come easy, you haven't thought about it enough.
"But once you do find your answer, I want you to hold onto it in whatever way you can. Write it down, commit to memory… tattoo it, even—but don't tell anyone that it was your professor who told you to do this." This time, no one laughed. Well, she couldn't have won them all. "This year is going to be tough. The years after will be tougher. But every time you feel like you're at the brink—the breaking point—and you want to give up…" She tapped the board. "I want you to remember this. You have an answer, whether you realize it yet or not. Your friends have ones. Your families. Your enemies. Everyone."
Nadine walked back to her desk. "Let's skip to page fifty-four—the Battle of Mitrol, and the circumstances that led up to it. We'll go over the historical accounts of this battle as a class, and then I want you all to give me your personal insight on what each side would've given as their answer for this question." She pointed towards the board.
That was the lesson. And those words she'd written—why do I fight? As chalk touched the board, Nadine hadn't even know the answer for herself.
But then she realized what it was. She learned it through every lecture—in those moments when the light in a student's eyes told her how impactful her words were. She learned it through spars when, over time, they grew closer and closer to besting her. She learned it through the warm way they greeted her when they spotted her walking across the grounds. Through the way they taught her there was more to life than a lonely mercenary's.
She learned it through the ways she saw them die in the war, and used the power Sothis gave her to ensure they would never meet those fates. And even though those deaths never came to pass, she never forgot them.
The answer was never, ever easy to come by.
"And when I think of the long, long path that led me here, I think of those who walked it with me."
The words sprang from her mouth, as natural as the ability to walk. With every line spoken, Nadine recognized another face in the crowd. She didn't know how she had managed to get through the speech without breaking into tears.
Her concluding words came like a sunset closing the day. Nadine paused, knowing what was next. She took a deep breath, resting her free hand on the polished surface of the pedestal. A few seconds ticked by, her eyes lowered.
Can't keep them waiting, Nadine. Not on the first day.
Gently, her hand lifted from the pedestal. It mimicked the action of closing a book. Green eyes lifted. Lips parted to draw in breath. And then she started.
The first notes to hit the air were shaky—like a newborn fawn taking its first steps. But as the verse continued, it found its footing.
The second verse. Then the third. And after the fourth…
From around her, she heard the others join in. They were soft at first—just a few members of the Church. And then it grew as more joined, the clerics, the nuns. Even the Knights. As the song continued, Nadine felt someone move behind her. She felt the mitre being removed from her head. Another replaced it, this one lighter. Even without seeing it, she knew exactly what it looked like.
She remembered the moment she had first laid eyes on Lady Rhea—the way it had fanned out over her head in radiant gold.
The sensation of it crowned on her felt strange, like it didn't quite belong there.
The song ended. The remaining breath in her lungs was expelled in a silent, shaky exhale. When the echoes of the last note evaporated, they left the chapel deathly silent. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Seteth step forward.
"Fódlan," he addressed in a booming voice. "As witnessed by the Goddess herself, we present to you the Archbishop of the Church of Seiros!"
It was an explosive sound—the applause. It was interspersed with cheers. The archbishop smiled, though there was no emotion behind it. The hand gripping her scepter tightened, knuckles growing white. The sound, she figured, could've reached the heavens. They could've been loud enough to wake the goddess herself, although Nadine knew better.
"Get these ridiculous things off of me," Nadine exclaimed, unclipping the heavy cloak and shrugging it off. With the ceremony concluded, she had returned to the small dressing room where she was cheerily discarding her ceremonial garb. By the vanity, Flayn sat atop a stool with her legs swinging idly off the edge.
"I think you looked quite beautiful with it all on, Professor! Like a queen!"
"I'm afraid I'd have to be married to the king for that," Nadine replied absently, fixing her hair in the mirror. "And can you imagine the king being married to the archbishop? Talk about a congregation of power." She paused, and then gave up. Reaching up, she carefully took the gold headdress off. "I only ever saw Lady Rhea with this thing on, but I'll never know how she did it. You know what, Flayn? Maybe as my first order as archbishop, I shall declare pajamas to be the official Church attire."
"Ooo, I like that idea!"
"Want to hear another idea you'll like? What say you and I sneak into town after this and go wild at the food stalls?"
"I would very much like that, but I don't think Seteth would—."
"You'll be with me. Seteth doesn't need to worry about a thing."
"It is no longer just me, Professor," Flayn replied. "You are the archbishop now—he will be concerned about your every move as well."
"If he starts watching me like a hawk, I think I'll go and stab myself," Nadine scoffed. She dipped down in front of Flayn. "But if he wants to try and leash me, he can certainly try." She grabbed the girl's hand. "Because we are going out there and stuffing ourselves on fried things on sticks, whether he wants us to or not."
Flayn's face lit up with a beam. "May I tell you something, Professor?" she asked. "I very much like you as archbishop. Almost as much as I liked you as my professor."
"So I'm competing with myself, huh?"
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Nadine let out a soft sigh, and then jerked her head towards the door. "You think we accidentally summoned him by talking about him?" She stood and called out, "Come in."
But instead of whom she expected, a loud, squealing, pink-haired presence suddenly invaded the room. "Professor! You were so—! Oh, poo, you already took everything off. I wanted to see you up close in all that resplendent glory!" Hilda gushed, taking no heed to personal space and she rushed in to give Nadine a squeezing hug. The air was crushed from her lungs under the girl's surprising strength. Finally, releasing her grip, Hilda stepped back. "I am so glad they got rid of that weird hat halfway through the ceremony—it was totally killing your vibe. But I gotta admit, when they put the archbishop's crown on you, you looked so much like Lady Rhea." Suddenly, Hilda whirled to the door. "Marianne, stop hanging out there and get on in here! The Professor's waiting to see you!"
The girl that walked in had lost so much of her sheepishness since when Nadine had first met her, and yet still retained some of that Marianne charm about her.
"H-hello, Professor. The ceremony was beautiful."
She had managed to hold in her tears during the ceremony, but now they were brimming. Any blink could send tears trailing down her face. "Oh, it's been so long. For both of you. I'm serious—it means the world that you're here today."
"Of course! You'd have to be crazy to think we'd miss a day like this!" Hilda said with a brisk wave of her hand. "It isn't every day that our dear professor gets crowned as archbishop! Heya Flayn—love the dress, by the way."
"Why thank you, Hilda."
"Professor, I don't mean to rush you," Marianne piped up, "but Hilda and I came here to fetch you. Everyone else is waiting for you outside."
"Everyone else?" Nadine echoed.
"Yes. Nearly everyone from our class is here."
For a moment, Nadine was at a loss for words. "Well," she breathed. "Can't keep them waiting, can I? Come on, Flayn."
She was led to the front of the cathedral, to the open area just in front of the great bridge. Just as Nadine stepped, she let out a laugh of disbelief at the sea of familiar faces that confronted her.
"You guys… you all came here… just for…?"
"You can blame Ingrid for coming up with the crazy idea," Sylvain spoke up. For once, his blonde companion looked pleased by his accusation. "I gotta tell you, though, I had to shell out quite a bit for all of those overnight messengers."
"Oh, quit whining, Sylvain. I'll split the cost with you," Ingrid dismissed.
"Professor, you're not going to start crying on us, are you?" Caspar asked upon seeing the look on Nadine's face. "Now that won't do. You look like you could use a group hug—right everyone?"
"Caspar, I don't—."
"Yes you do, Professor. Yes you do." The young man shushed Nadine with a bear hug. "Come on, everyone. Get you a little piece of the Professor."
Under the weight of everyone, Nadine couldn't help but laugh. "Okay… okay, guys, really!"
"I hope this shows you, Professor," Caspar continued, "that we'll always be here for you—no matter what. Even if it takes a ton of overnight messengers and a lot of Sylvain's money."
"Hang on, this was a one-time thing—."
"A LOT of Sylvain's money."
"Caspar, I swear to the goddess, I'm going to wring your neck—!"
"Only if you can catch me, pretty boy!" Caspar shot back, racing towards the bridge. Even as he ran with Sylvain chasing him, his thundering voice could be heard clearly by the rest. "You don't have your horse to help you out now!"
"Goddess, I swear… just when it seems like the boys have grown up," Dorothea sighed, disdainfully flipping a lock of chestnut hair over her shoulder.
"Don't you worry, Dorothea! You'll not see such rambunctious behavior out of one such as I, Ferdinand von Aegir!"
"Oh, shut it, Ferdie."
Some of the former students had begun to drift off, finding parts of the monastery to wander towards and catch up with old schoolmates. It didn't trouble Nadine in the least to see them go—in fact, it brought her indescribable joy to see them go and relive some of the most cherished days of their lives.
"Professor!"
Nadine turned. "Well!" she mused. "I didn't expect to see you outside of Fhirdiad. Don't tell me Sylvain and Ingrid pulled you into this, too."
"Are you kidding? I would have proposed this very idea myself had they not beaten me to it," Dimitri replied. Flanking him were members of the king's royal guard. Although, Nadine couldn't help but notice there was one face missing. "Today will surely be marked in history books from years to come," the king continued. "I know our class has already expressed this in abundance, but I wanted to personally congratulate you."
"Thank you. Your support has been monumental."
"With that being said, I look forward to our combined efforts in reconstructing Fódlan. I know it as a fact that great things happen when we work together."
"It's going to be a long, bumpy road, Dimitri," Nadine cautioned. "No doubt you're already aware of that. I'm just going to warn you that as king, I have very high expectations of you."
"Well, I suppose I should take that pressure as a motivator," Dimitri said with a small laugh. "This is just like the academy days, isn't it?"
"Yup. Only, unlike your academy days, you don't seem to have your shadow with you."
"Shadow…? Are you referring to Dedue? He's right h—?" Dimitri turned and found himself with evidence to the contrary. "That's odd. I thought he was right… Did anyone see where he went?"
"No, your Majesty," one of the royal guardsmen replied.
"That's very odd. He was nearby for the ceremony. It's not like him to make himself scarce like this. I'm sure he would've been eager to see you, too. I wonder if he's gone to see how the greenhouse has faired in his absence?"
Nadine gave a weak smile. "Oh, don't hold it against him. I'm not the most important person in the world."
"Archbishop." Seteth appeared at her side, nearly causing Nadine to jump out of her skin. She was going to have to get used to that. "Forgive the intrusion, but your presence is needed in the Audience Chamber." To Dimitri, he gave a reverential dip of his head. "Your Majesty. Doing well, I hope?"
"Yes, of course. It's good to see you too, Seteth. Well, Professor, don't let me keep you. As for myself, I think I should like to reacquaint myself with our old classroom." With a gesture to his royal guard, the king turned away.
"Shall we, Archbishop?" Seteth offered with a gesture.
"Of course. May I ask why I'm being summoned to the Audience Chamber?"
"I think it will be more efficient if I allow you to see for yourself," Seteth merely replied. "Shall we go?" They crossed onto the bridge that connected the cathedral from the rest of the monastery. Once over the bridge, they stopped just short from entering the reception hall, turning into a smaller corridor that led to the stairwell to the second floor.
The Audience Chamber waited behind a set of grand double doors—the first sight to see upon reaching the top of the stairwell. Nadine paused when she saw them. Beyond them was the unknown—and the start of her life as archbishop. For some reason, the thought of it terrified her.
"Archbishop?" Seteth questioned from the sight of Nadine's hesitation.
"I just… could you give me a second?"
"Of course. I will leave you to it, but should you need me, I will be in my office." With that, Seteth turned down another set of corridors.
With her eyes still focused on the doors, Nadine took a deep breath. She hadn't even realized there was someone else there waiting for her.
"… Nadine?" Her name was spoken so softly, so trepidatiously.
She turned towards the source of the sound. The smile that spread across her face came naturally. "Hey, you," she greeted. "We were wondering where you went."
"Forgive me. I hope you did not think I was avoiding you."
"Oh, I know you're not one for crowds. Still, I gotta tell you that you missed a wicked group hug."
"I wanted to speak with you, although not in front of the others."
"Is that right? Well, I'm all ears."
"There is… something I want to tell you. Something I've wanted to tell you for a long time." There was a look in his eyes unlike anything Nadine had ever seen before. "I…"
The grinding of opening doors suddenly masked Dedue's words. Nadine's eyes quickly shot to them as the doors of the Audience Chamber flew open. Beyond was a sight that she never imagined she would see.
"Oh, my child!" Her voice was just as melodic as Nadine remembered it. "Words cannot express how overjoyed I am to see this day come!"
"Lady Rhea!" Nadine gasped, turning away from Dedue as the saintly woman glided across the floor to her. "I didn't expect to see you here!"
"And miss your enthronement? Of course not!" Rhea replied warmly. She gestured behind her. "Catherine was kind enough to escort me here from Zanado. My Child, I could not have asked for a more worthy successor." Rhea's hands came up, cupping either side of Nadine's face. "I know you will do great things in my place. Perhaps even greater than anything I have ever done." A gentle hand swooped a lock of hair behind Nadine's ear.
"Thank you, Lady Rhea—truly. But, do you mind if I turn away for just a moment?"
"Not at all." Rhea's hands came away from Nadine. She turned back to Dedue.
"I'm sorry—there was something you wanted to say?"
"Yes, there was. I…" But that look in his eyes was gone. He tore them away from Nadine's, quickly lowering them to the floor. "I wanted to say that… that I wish you the best of luck." He stooped into a quick bow. Even as he came up, he never met Nadine's eyes again.
"Dedue—."
"Goodbye, Archbishop."
He left even before Nadine could process the meaning behind his farewell. And then it hit her, a dizzying blow like that from cold, hard steel.
"Who was that? A former student? How wonderful that they still cherish you so," Rhea remarked. "Now, might I request that we catch up over a cup of tea? It has been too long since we last did so."
Nadine turned back to Rhea, hoping none of her emotions showed on her face. Instead, she slipped on a cheery smile. "I would be delighted to, Lady Rhea," Nadine replied. "Shall we head down to the courtyard? Catherine—I have to insist that you join us."
Thank the goddess that the ceremony was over! Alois laced his fingers together and gave them a good stretch, feeling the satisfactory pop from a few of his knuckles. As for the rest of his day? Well, there was a drink or two calling his name from the tavern in town, and then it was off to bed for this old man. It would be an early start tomorrow—he wanted the knights to be up and ready for the new archbishop. Yes, that sounded like a fine plan. But before he could put any of it into action, a voice suddenly interrupted him.
"Captain."
"Wah!" Alois cried. Then he spotted who had spoken. It was a man several years his junior. Something about him looked familiar. He was of a dark skin tone, scarred in the face, and had snow-white hair fashioned into a wolf's tail. "Oh, it's only you. Pardon the, er, outburst. I thought you were a… well, never mind. What can I help you with, young man?"
"I did not mean to startle you. I have simply come to you with a request."
"A request, you say? Well… that is rather odd. But tell you what—the ceremony today has put me in a generous mood, so I'll try my best to honor it."
"It regards the archbishop," the young man clarified. "I understand that you are the captain of the Knights of Seiros—therefore, though I do not wish to give the impression of overstepping boundaries, I humbly request this of you: please do all that you can to protect her."
Alois blinked. "Oh…" he peeped. "Well… yes, of course. As captain of the Knights of Seiros, that is my highest priority. May I ask why you felt the need to make such a request?"
The young man hesitated. "I cannot say."
"Well, don't you worry! The archbishop—not to mention Captain Jeralt's daughter—is very important to me. I will protect her with my life!"
"I am glad to hear that. Thank you." A polite dip of his head, and then the young man was off. It was then, watching him leave, that Alois suddenly realized who he was.
Ah, yes! He was one of the students in the Professor's class! The Blue Lions—that one stuck to the then-prince like a burr, if I recall. What an odd boy… although his sense of loyalty is unmatched.
Alois shook his head. Well, enough of that. It was off to the taverns with him.
Cerro was among the first to lift his head at the sound of coming footsteps. Elongated ears pointed forward while his mouth continued to lazily chew the fodder between his teeth. Slowly, the other horses around him picked up on the sound of approaching men.
From his stall door appeared a familiar face that he had been waiting for. Cerro eagerly stretched his neck out to greet his rider, although the door kept him from reaching out too far.
"Rested, Cerro?" Dedue asked, giving the horse's broad neck a gentle pat. The horse gave a lazy flick of his ear in response, still chewing his mouthful of hay. "I'm afraid it's time to make the journey home. It is a short notice—I know."
The animal hardly reacted to his words, although Dedue saw that silent kinship in Cerro's eyes as he regarded his rider. They shared a bond that he had long thought was impossible—animals tended to react… less than favorably to him. It was never something he minded in the past, however, mainly because he had never known what it was like to befriend an animal.
Not until the Professor had given Cerro to him.
Suddenly, the horse's ears perked forward. With startling speed, the beast quickly stuck his nose towards the pouch fastened to Dedue's hip. A hand came forward to gently ward the nosy horse back.
"Perceptive, as always," Dedue remarked. "These carrots are for the road, Cerro." The horse made a bid for the pouch again, and this time Dedue stepped back to keep it out of reach. "I've always known you as a patient one… except when it came to food." Cerro remained where he was, neck stretched forward and gaze focused on his rider. Those big, round eyes stayed on Dedue until he found himself relenting to them with a defeated sigh.
"Just one then."
Around them, the members of the king's royal guard fetched their horses from the Garreg Mach stables. The stable hands had already prepared the horses' tack prior to their arrival, though the men now paused to give the cinches their last adjustments.
"Midmorning has passed," Dimitri announced to the guard, standing with his horse's reins in his hand. "We depart at once."
"Yes, your Majesty," came the automatic response of several voices. The men mounted their steeds and spurred them on. Hooves clacked against stone as the congregation rode through the monastery's front gate. From behind them, a certain gatekeeper called after them, "Safe travels, your Majesty!"
Half an hour later saw them past the towns that were scattered around Garreg Mach's parameter. However, the monastery continued to loom over them from the hilltop it stood on. The slow, steady drum of hoof beats continually peppered the air. Occasionally, a horse would snort. Other times, the flicking of a horse's tail would sound like a soft whisper.
Years atop Cerro's back had finally taught Dedue to appreciate the rhythmic rocking of a horse's gait. It calmed him now when he needed it. The events of yesterday, and his realization of what it meant, was still fresh on his mind like a new battle wound.
I should be glad to return to Fhirdiad, he thought to himself. I am right where I belong—at his Majesty's side. I should be glad.
I should be glad… I am glad.
"You look distraught."
Dedue turned his head towards Dimitri. "Do I?"
"Come now, Dedue. How long have I known you? I should like to think I know you pretty well by now, even when you do your best to hide away." Dimitri turned his gaze back on the road ahead. "It has been… maybe a year? A year since I said something to you—do you remember what it was?"
"I do, your Majesty."
"I knew you would. I meant what I said then, and I mean it now. I wish for you to see me as a friend. Not just as your king, and certainly not as someone superior to you. I want you to feel like you can confide in me—about anything—and trust your troubles to me."
"I understand, your Majesty."
"I hope you really do, Dedue. Now, please… tell me, what's wrong?"
"I…" His head turned, but he quickly pulled it back forward. No, he had told himself he wouldn't. He wasn't going to look back. Not towards the monastery. Not towards her. "I have broken a promise."