It truly was inhuman how Professor Eisner recovered from his wounds. Three days had passed since the near-fatal encounter with the demonic creature and the professor was already teaching lessons again. Though his mobility was hampered and he sat more than he stood, the iron resolve in his posture had not faded in the slightest. If one overlooked the occasional lapses in his words as he stomached some twinge of pain or unspoken ache then one might guess he was entirely unharmed.
Of course, the truth was that Professor Eisner was pushing himself to the limit of human endurance. His precise, methodical movements had a stiffness to them, a forced awareness as he placed his body through sheer force of will. The plodding slowness was almost unbearable sometimes, and Dimitri had to grit his teeth in empathetic pain during some of the professor's more tiring moments.
None of the students would mention it, but they were all worried for their professor. The worst of it had passed; his survival was no longer in question by any means. What they feared more was that in his insistence on returning to work his healing would not complete properly, and some permanent result would come out of the affair.
Though, Dimitri had to admit the change in the classroom atmosphere was welcome. Even the dainty and work-avoiding Hilda applied herself to her work, either too afraid to rouse the professor's wrath or inspired by his stubbornness. Bernadetta had not yet returned to class, but that too was a topic that everyone sought to avoid. She also had healed up well, thanks in no small part of Mercedes and Manuela's excellent care, but the event had left her traumatized and she refused to leave her room. A few of them had visited to check on her; Mercedes and Annette were the only ones the young Adrestian noble had allowed inside.
Today was the celebration of Saint Macuil, one of the four saints. In keeping with monastery tradition, classes lasted only through morning. The afternoon was reserved for optional remembrances at the chapel and a variety of small, commemorative events throughout the Garreg Mach grounds. There was also a festival in the village. His classmates had already discussed the various things they wanted to do. Some like Sylvain and Ingrid were taking the excuse to do some shopping in the village and check out more of the local eateries. Ashe and Annette had volunteered to assist with the games being held for the monastery's small orphanage. Dedue, surprisingly enough, had been asked to assist in the kitchens by Flayn, who was adamant that she would learn how to properly cook up a Duscur fish recipe. No one had bothered to ask Mercedes what she planned; she would likely spend the entire day in the chapel.
Only Felix did not have something planned. No, Dimitri did not either. He had no idea what he wanted to do with an afternoon to himself. Perhaps Professor Eisner might have an idea. Ordinarily he would try and find a sparring partner, but the training grounds were closed down.
"…falling back upon his initial premise, Decartaine reiterated the economic impact of a Crest-based meritocracy. His primary example Tygoth the Tanner, however, is a poor banner for this argument for what reason?"
Professor Eisner set down the textbook and gazed out over the classroom. His cold, brooding eyes settled on Dimitri for just long enough that the young prince tensed, and hated himself for not having a quick enough answer.
"Because no evidence exists that Tygoth the Tanner actually bore a Crest," Ingrid answered. "The story of Tygoth the Tanner originated fifty years before Decartaine, and since it was passed by word of mouth it is reasonable to assume that embellishments grew after decades of retelling. Decartaine assumes the veracity of the version of the story he heard, and ignored the iterations of the story that disagreed."
"Even assuming that Tygoth the Tanner bore a Crest," Sylvain added, "the story itself contradicts the fundamentals of Decartaine's argument. He is famous for leading a group of highly capable merchants, not being a capable merchant himself. The attributed mercantile laws and accomplishments are all named under his followers, not the man himself. While gathering valuable confidants is important and a good quality for a leader, he himself showed no particular talents for the work."
Professor Eisner nodded slowly. "Both points are valid. If you read Decartaine's other works, you will find that the man is quite arrogant in his assumption that he always finds the true retelling of whatever stories or folk tales he researches, and has a tendency to gloss over facts and inconsistencies in his talking points. Now, whether or not this disqualifies th-"
The professor stopped suddenly, his eyes shooting over to the doors of the classroom. Dimitri turned to look, unable to resist the temptation of what caused the unflappable man to hesitate. So too did most of the class.
The archbishop herself stood at the doors of the classroom. Clad in the decorative raiment of office that swaddled her in rich silks and satin, she fairly glowed in the backlit entrance as the sun poured in from behind her, giving the beautiful and unnaturally youthful woman an ethereal appearance. He could not deny that his heart skipped a beat; her intense gaze rested on Professor Eisner, both appraising but also gentle, like a mother watching her child walk off a skinned knee.
"Archbishop."
The professor made to rise, shuffling carefully to his feet as he supported himself against the desk. Dimitri hurried to follow, leaping to his feet and offering a modest bow. His fellow classmates did as well, some with more enthusiasm than others.
"I apologize for the disruption, Professor Eisner." Her voice came out softly, though there was no mistaking that she was a woman used to speaking before crowds and the nobles alike. Taking a few graceful steps into the classroom, she offered a little nod and gestured for the students to seat themselves. "Please, the classroom is your church, not mine. I would only ask a moment of your time."
"Whatever you desire," Professor Eisner replied. He remained standing; Dimitri wondered if the act of standing required so much effort he did not want to risk not being able to stand up again.
"With your permission, Professor Eisner, I would take one of your students from you. There is something I would discuss with Mercedes as a part of her duties for the month."
The professor's head tilted to regard the student in question. Mercedes blushed faintly, torn between her excitement at being requested by the Archbishop and her embarrassment for being the source of a disruption.
"She is all yours," he agreed. "Mercedes, do you mind?"
"Not at all," the peach-blonde girl insisted. "I am happy to assist, Archbishop Rhea."
"Unfortunately, I will require your presence for the rest of the day. Should I have a servant fetch your schoolwork back to your room?"
"I can take- oh, sorry, um Archbishop Rhea? I can take Mercie's stuff back to her room. If- If that's okay." Annette raised, lowered, then raised her hand again.
"Thank you." Archbishop Rhea graced the redhead with a brilliant smile. "Then, Mercedes, shall we?"
Mercedes nearly bounced with each step as she followed the archbishop out of the classroom. Dimitri watched them leave, marveling at the opportunity that Mercedes has been granted. She really was the perfect fit for the role, and the experience must be dazzling for her. He wondered if Professor Eisner had planned that, or if it was a stroke of luck for her.
Between her earnest faith and philanthropic soul, the opportunity to learn at the feet of the archbishop herself was akin to a peasant being found as the lost heir to a noble household. Mercedes had been unable to hide her excitement after her short forays alongside the archbishop, often little more than serving as a lady-in-waiting equivalent or attending small functionary events. And now, to be pulled out of class to serve the archbishop… Dimitri could only wonder what sort of thing his classmate was about to take part in. Was the archbishop going to include her in one of the day's ceremonies?
He could imagine that Archbishop Rhea had a packed schedule today. For her to pull Mercedes out of class must mean that she needed assistance with something of incredible importance.
-v- Mercedes -v-The crisp taste of sage and cinnamon danced in her mouth. She gave herself a moment to savor the sharp flavors, rolling them about on her tongue before swallowing and reveling in the comforting heat that slid down her throat. A contended sigh rose from her lungs, but she hushed herself and merely gazed down at the tea in admiration of the splendid blend. It was a truly marvelous brew; she resisted the urge to wonder how much it had cost the Archbishop to acquire it, and how generous Lady Rhea was to share it with a lowly girl such as herself.
"You do not have to restrict yourself, Mercedes. There is plenty for the both of us." Lady Rhea's gentle smile and soothing words made her heart flutter in her chest. In her brief moments alongside the great leader, Mercedes had learned so much just from watching and observing. The love that Lady Rhea had for her people, the fanaticism with which she applied herself. Like a true mother watching over her precious children, she put her all into shepherding the people of Fodlan.
"Ah, yes, Lady Rhea. Thank you."
Mercedes drained the last of the tea in her cup and carefully poured herself a second. As she did she cast a discreet glance at the Archbishop's cup. Lady Rhea herself had not touched it. No, her attention seemed elsewhere. There was a troubled air about her, weighing down on her indomitable shoulders. Mercedes had seen the glimpses of weariness that Lady Rhea wore between sessions and meetings, but never so severe as what she saw now. The Archbishop appeared… drained. As if she had resorted to using even her very lifeforce to keep moving.
"Your tea is growing cold, Lady Rhea. Shall I pour you another cup?"
The Archbishop let out a long, breathy sigh. In a move that left Mercedes dumbfounded, the regal woman plucked the teacup up and gulped down the whole drink in one go, uncaring for the lingering heat or flavor. Setting the cup down with equal disinterest, she waved her hand in agreement. "Yes, please. Some days I fear I need a friendly soul to remind me to eat and drink. It is so easy to overlook such things."
"Y- yes. Right away!"
Her hands trembled faintly as she poured the Archbishop's tea. Though she had mentioned the brew cooling, steam had still lingered around the lip of the cup. Mercedes was sipping at her own tea still, unwilling to risk burning her mouth.
They were sitting in the flower garden that was Lady Rhea's private retreat. This was Mercedes' second time in this quiet haven, and it was just as magical as the first. She could not help but gaze over the monastery grounds in adoration. Here and there she spotted one of her friends moving between buildings, and she was sorely tempted to shout down to them and wave.
To do so would be unbecoming, and disrespectful of Lady Rhea's invitation. She settled with watching, and serving Lady Rhea by merely being at her side, offering her whatever small comfort the Archbishop found in her presence.
After a few minutes of quiet, Lady Rhea spoke to her.
"How does he fare?"
Mercedes did not have to ask to confirm whom Lady Rhea referred to. It was how all their conversations started about that man. Professor Eisner. Though the Archbishop showed great interest in his well-being and progress, she had yet to mention him by name. It was a… Mercedes was unsure if it was merely a coincidence, or if Lady Rhea had a reason for not naming the young professor. Honestly it was more strange than worrisome. Lady Rhea was not one to engage in idle wordplay or speak thoughtlessly. But she had noticed it, and it made her hesitate every time.
And though a small part of her felt like a tattletale for divulging his news to the Archbishop, Mercedes did not hold back her own thoughts on the mysterious professor. This was Lady Rhea, after all. She could not imagine the gentle church leader holding any ulterior motives.
"He insists that he is fine, Lady Rhea, but I worry about him. His recovery was… is… incomplete.' Mercedes frowned as she recalled the stiffness of his movements, the noticeable lack of pacing and moving about the classroom these last days. "It may be my imagination, I am a terrible worrier, you see, but I fear he is pushing himself too hard."
"You do not believe he is healed?"
"His wounds were terrible."
She fell silent, her heart beating faster in her chest as she remembered the grisly scene. Professor Eisner's near-death experience had left her physically and emotionally drained. Even with her modest healing abilities and Professor Manuela's expertise, it was more a miracle that he survived than a testament to their skills. She could still smell the overpowering stench of blood in her nostrils, taste the bitter iron of his blood as it spewed from his wounds.
A tender hand, cool to the touch and soft as velvet, pressed down on her wrist. Mercedes glanced up at Lady Rhea, and realized her vision was blurry with the hint of tears.
"You are such a kind soul," Lady Rhea said. Her voice was rich, soothing, yet also carried that authoritarian mastery that left Mercedes spellbound to her every word. "He is lucky to have you."
Horrified at her lack of composure, Mercedes wiped her eyes and blinked back her tears. She put on a brave face and hurried to reassure the Archbishop.
"I believe a day or rest would do wonders for him, Lady Rhea. That is all he needs. Some time to recuperate and allow his body to fully mend."
"He does not seem like the type to stop," the Archbishop murmured, nodding sagely. "Even if it is for his own good. Perhaps we should do something about that."
"…we?"
"Unfortunately, my duties will keep me occupied for the afternoon and late into evening. Were the circumstances different I would ask you to accompany me, but your professor's health is more important. To that end, I would like to ask a favor of you, Mercedes."
"A… favor!"
Mercedes felt her face reddening again. The archbishop, asking her a favor? She felt like the sky would fall down around them.
"You do not need to sound so surprised. I am only… human, after all." Lady Rhea's lips curved in an exquisite smile, an expression so breathtakingly pure that Mercedes gaped at the Archbishop with bated breath. "I do ask favors from time to time."
"What would you ask of me?"
The fingers on her wrist squeezed just a little tighter, embracing Mercedes' with warmth.
"If he will not stop on his own accord, then we must force him to stop. I would ask that you tend to him today. Encourage him to rest and do whatever is necessary to speed his healing."
"Whatever is necessary?"
Her brow furrowed as she tried to interpret the archbishop's words.
"He is such a stubborn man. It will take a stubborn woman to pin him down. You may have to be forceful with him."
She felt the heat rising in her cheeks.
"If it is easier for you, I have this to offer." Lady Rhea produced two slips of paper from her voluminous sleeve. Mercedes accepted them meekly, and inspected them. Reservations for the sauna just beside the dormitories. It was a relatively new installation, and required reservations as opposed to the open facilities in the village. She had not looked into it herself, but Hilda claimed it cost a pretty penny for private reservations.
"The… sauna, Lady Rhea?"
She could not deny the thought of going with Annette intrigued her. Saunas were places for relaxation, refreshment. But to go with Professor Eisner… a man… clothed in nothing but towels…
"A good trip to the sauna will do wonders for his healing. In order for that to work, however, he must be made to relax and enjoy himself. My observations inform me he is not one for relaxation. Not without incentive."
"In…centive?" Mercedes felt her cheeks burning, and had to set down her teacup she was trembling so badly. For the briefest moment she thought Lady Rhea cast a calculating glance across her body, but that must have been her imagination.
"You are an earnest young woman, Mercedes. There is a wonderful charm in that. If you were to approach him and demand he spend the afternoon in such a way, he would be mad to turn you down. You may be his student, but you are also the one who saved his life. He cannot overlook that."
"Oh. Yes, of course." That was all the archbishop meant by it. Mercedes felt ashamed of herself for letting such indecent thoughts color the gentle lady's intentions. Horrified at her private disrespect, Mercedes bowed her head meekly and tucked the tickets into a pocket of her dress. "I will drag him there by the ear if I have to."
The archbishop's sweet lips quirked in a smile. It was like the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, and Mercedes felt the thrill of approval wash over her. She did not remember much else, but after a short time sharing more tea, she hurried along to find Professor Eisner and carry out the archbishop's plan.
-v- Byleth -v-He had been in a sauna once before.
It was… years ago, during the winter spent against the Almyrans on the border. One of the cozy mountain villages he had stationed in possessed such a structure, and after a particularly fierce battle he and his temporary squad were invited there by the grateful village elder. He did not remember much; they were all exhausted after three days camping in the waist-deep snowdrifts and constant skirmishes, but he did remember a few key points.
Saunas were hot.
Saunas were wet.
The elder's daughter was a lively host.
His fingers rubbed against the cabinet door, noting with approval the faintest hint of oil still present in the wood. Construction of the facility finished up just before the year began, and was rarely used yet as entry required a donation to the church. An interesting decision by the church, but with so many wealthy students it posed an affluent opportunity.
Not that he particularly cared about the financial decisions of the ecclesiarch. He never intended to come here; saunas were an interesting distraction, but not much more than that. The only reason he agreed to come in the first place was his lack of an alternative. As stubborn as Mercedes was, he could have easily outlasted her or simply closed his door in her face. Instinct told him to accept her offer, however. For her to approach her teacher so aggressively about this matter indicated a courage and confidence he should cultivate in his students. That was what he assumed, at least.
He pointedly did not ask where she had acquired the vouchers. From his research into her background, he researched all of his students to learn their origins and personalities, he knew her to be the adopted daughter of a well-off merchant. Not outrageously well-off, and certainly of some wealth if he managed to secure her a place in the Garreg Mach Officer's Academy. But not so wealthy as to offer such an extravagant stipend she could easily afford luxuries like reservations to the sauna.
No, odds were good someone had foisted the vouchers upon her. Perhaps Annette, a gift from her mother in the capital. The pair must have planned on going together. That was the kind of thing young gentlewomen did, after all. Today would have been a good day for it too, with the afternoon activities cancelled so students could spend the holiday in a manner of their choosing. Perhaps they discovered their conflict of schedules and she decided to go by herself. Stumbling upon the idea that she could invite him along to aid his healing process must have been pure coincidence.
Still, he wondered if she understood the implication of a young woman inviting a man into a private place like a sauna. The girl was too innocent for her own good. He would have to take care to avoid sparking rumors. To that end he informed her he would arrive separately. Since his room was the closest to the sauna facility it hardly even qualified as a walk to get there. After accepting one voucher from the peach-blonde girl he retreated into his room to change into looser clothing. It took him several minutes. His back was still far too stiff for his liking.
Once he was ready walked over to the sauna and handed in the voucher. After being directed to the male changing room, he now found himself staring at the thick white towel and wondering whether this had been a mistake. At the sauna in the village there had been no dress code. The mercenaries all went in naked, as had the young village girls who decided to thank the mercenaries in their own way. This was a far cry from that scenario, however. Mercedes was his student, and he was her teacher. He had no intention of dishonoring her, but the simple fact remained that if he was required to enter in merely a towel, so too would she.
He would have thought the place might require a light dress code like the academy jerseys that the students wore during physical training events. That was what he had heard, at least. But the reserved sauna was a special room, designed for smaller meetings rather than the pair of larger sauna rooms that held multiple benches. This particular room could hold four people comfortably at most. It also had relaxed standards enforced, as the reservation covered an array of special incense and herbs added to the steam for additional effect. Those sorts of things would soak into anything, and whoever made the sauna decided that it was not cost-effective to cover the cleaning and de-scenting of clothing. Instead they were provided with towels that could be more easily cleaned.
And a young woman of her Mercedes' generous figure… clad only in a towel…
He glanced down.
"Shit."
This was a terrible idea. He snatched up the thickest-looking towel he could find and wrapped it around his waist. The softness of the towel only made it worse, and he paused a moment as he considered abandoning the whole thing and returning to his room.
Knowing Mercedes, she would storm over to his room and demand he come with her. That would create a scene, and would be more embarrassing for her than for him. It would also raise concerns he had no intention of allowing.
As Jeralt said, "when you are faced with indecision, just cut a path through it."
He stepped through the door for the private sauna and found that he was the first to arrive. It was a small room, with a two-person bench on one wall and one-person benches to either side. On the opposite wall from the larger bench, his immediate right, was a carefully made kiln covered by a grate just wide enough to pour water and drop herbs through.
Though he had been in one of these before, he had not tended to the steam himself. Thinking it better to allow Mercedes to tend to it, she seemed the type to know what to do there, he poured a little water in the kiln to stimulate the steam before taking a seat on the wide bench. His placement gave her plenty of space to either sit beside him or on the lone bench to his left.
The sauna attendant had already started the steam for them, so it only took a short while before the suffocating heat of the sauna began to smother him. It was a gratifying sensation. The heat seeped into his skin, massaging his body in a lover's caress. Sweat began to form on his forehead and chest from the sweltering heat, but it was not the kind of heat that made him uncomfortable or drew irritation. This was… pleasant.
He had to be careful to not lose track of why he was here. Mercedes had asked him to join her as a companion for the sauna. Forgetting her would be rude, even if she had made the excuse that the sauna would help him in his recovery. There was simply no way that sitting in a steamed room could possibly-
Damn, that really is pleasant.
The aching muscles in his back were growing silent, put to rest by soothing heat. An unfamiliar fragrance spread through the room. There was a second grate on the other side of the wall for the attendants to work the kiln. They must have added in some herbs on their own initiative. Whatever the scent was, he found his body loosening on its own accord. The tension he had carried for days now simply melted away.
Maybe there really was something to what Mercedes claimed about the wonders of a sauna treatment.
Speaking of…
By his estimation it had been more than a few minutes, but his student had yet to make her appearance. Perhaps she was waiting, giving him time to orient to the room before she made her entrance. Or perhaps she had never intended to set foot in the room herself. His hackles rose instinctively at the thought of treachery. Such a thing was not uncommon among mercenary ranks, and Byleth had learned from an early age to be on the lookout for betrayal from every angle. Certainly Mercedes was an unlikely candidate for such a thing, but that meant little in his cold, calculating mind. Was this a setup? Whether of ill intent or not, she could have lured him in here under false pretenses. Archbishop Rhea had called her out of class unexpectedly, and here the same day Mercedes appeared with two vouchers for an exclusive sauna visit. Did the archbishop intend for him to be away from his room so his quarters could be searched? He had nothing to hide, but that did not mean he had nothing she would want found.
Had he fallen for so simple and obvious a-
The door to his left, on the women's side, creaked open. It was impossible to restrain the tensing of his body, and his mind naturally shifted into a defensive focus while he waited for the newcomer to appear.
"Professor Eisner?"
Mercedes' voice was stiff, like his back, and edged with a faint shrillness that confused him.
"I am here," he answered, gazing at the door.
"I'm- I'm coming in. Would you please look away?"
Shame bled through her soft voice. He recognized it instantly and acquiesced. Choosing to inspect the men's room door, he indicated she could come in. The dull creaking of the door alerted him to her entrance, then the whisper-like slap of bare feet on the steam-wet wood told him she had entered. She gasped quietly, drinking in the sight of the room. A hint of skin teased in the corner of his eye, then the bench shifted faintly as Mercedes sat down beside him. Only when she cleared her throat did he return his gaze.
Mercedes' cheeks were red, likely from immediate reaction to the steam. Her whole face was flushed, and a delicate pink spread across her arms and legs as she fidgeted restlessly with her towel. The thick cloth struggled valiantly to contain her voluptuous figure, leaving her breasts bulging dangerously across the top of it and her lush thighs exposed at the bottom. His eyes wandered for the briefest moment, unable to deny the spark of enjoyment he felt in seeing her innocent skin on such shameful display.
The spark drowned inside him, and he calmly studied her shivering profile.
"They… um… didn't have a bigger towel," she explained.
"Perhaps we should warn them that Professor Casagrande may come visit sometime," he stated. He meant it as a humorous anecdote, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. Mercedes' face darkened, and she frantically tugged at the towel, doing her best to submerge her overflowing chest in its soft white folds.
Neither spoke for a moment. Byleth let his attention shift back to the kiln, and he pointed to the wooden boxes that held the various herbs available to the room. "It appears the attendants put in the first batch for us. I thought you would have an idea of what to add."
"Ah, yes." The young woman nodded hesitantly. Grateful for something to do, she stood up and approached the kiln.
Byleth's eyes traveled down her back to the gentle curve of her hips. He had not noticed it in her school-issued clothes, but Mercedes had splendid hips and a backside that he doubted he would be forgetting any time soon. The accentuation of her tender thighs, highlighted by the towel, left him silent for a moment as he considered what a truly terrible decision this had been. He doubted that he would be able to look at Mercedes objectively, going forwards.
"Hm… a pinch of this. A little of that."
She pored over the offerings and went to work like a chef over a prime dish. Adding in a few ingredients to the kiln, she also poured in some more water to force the steam and kickstart the filtration of the new herbs. The resulting surge of steam sent her staggering backwards a step. A soft giggle emerged from her lips and her irrepressible smile returned when she turned back to him.
"There we are, Professor. Now we can sit back and- eek!"
A splinter of stone on the kiln snagged her towel as she turned. Unaware of the danger, Mercedes stepped back towards the bench. Her towel did not follow, hooked on the kiln. The white towel slithered off of her body, baring her naked body in a flourish that caught them both by surprise. For a glorious moment her breasts hung in the open air, sagging slightly as gravity pulled on their sizable weight. His eyes drank in the sight of those pale-as-snow breasts, capped with broad areolas and nipples of a peach-pink coloring. The subtle roundness of her belly, the modestly trimmed patch of hair above her tightly closed slit.
Mercedes' startled shriek tore him from his viewing pleasure. Hastily averting his eyes, he forced his attention into the corner of the room. The student frantically gathered up the towel and wrapped it back around herself. At that point her whole body seemed flushed and not because of the steam.
It only lasted half a second, but the image of her body had been seared into his mind. Mercedes was not some Amazonian goddess; her body was soft and pliable, the sort of body one expected from a magic-dependent being. That kind of thing… it was not what he was used to. It was… intriguing. Like seeing a new kind of animal for the first time.
He doubted she would appreciate the comparison.
After a short wait and frantic scuffling noises, Mercedes announced he could look again.
The peach-blonde beauty was bundled up thoroughly, having retreated to the women's room to grab an extra towel. It was almost amusing to see her like that, with one towel wrapped around her as before, and a second draped over her shoulder to provide more modest attire. She recognized where his eyes rested, and meekly lowered her eyes rather than meet his gaze. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he could not tell if it was water or tears on her cheeks.
"It… ah… I apologize, Professor. I am sure you did not want to see that."
"What?"
Her statement left him confused. Her embarrassment? Her body? She was the sort of girl who put effort into maintaining appearance, though she made it seem effortless. From what little he understood of women, the event must have been truly shameful for her. As her teacher, he should help her get past that embarrassment.
"Your body is nothing to be ashamed of," he told her. "It was an unfortunate accident."
"Yes- an accident." Her fingers twined nervously on her lap.
She still radiated unease, so he decided a little more encouragement would be appropriate. "If you are worried about your figure, think nothing of it."
"Eh?" Mercedes' eyes widened just a little. Her breath caught in her throat, but she did not glance up from the floor.
"You may not be the most athletic young woman, but you put your all into your training, and your body is suited for childbirth so you should have no issues once you marry-"
"Professor!" Her voice spilled out frantically, cutting him off midsentence. "Can we please just forget it happened?"
His words of encouragement did not seem to have helped the situation. Recognizing defeat for what it was, he nodded and allowed the conversation to drop. That sort of thing was not his strength, anyways. Perhaps it was better he left it alone.
Or maybe he could talk to Annette about the situation. The pair were close, and Annette would know how to cheer her up. On second thought, bringing this situation up with Annette could be counter-productive. He could not think of a diplomatic way to explain how and why he saw her best friend, and his student, naked. Not in this scenario, at least.
An uncomfortable silence descended on the room. Mercedes seemed content to remain silent and bask in the steam, and Byleth saw no reason to risk exacerbating the issue. Young women were fickle creatures, and he imagined one wrong word could only set off some emotional deluge for the shaken Mercedes.
Eventually, once the steam lay even thicker and the mixed scents of herbs filled his head, Mercedes dared to speak again.
"So… Professor… I was wondering if I can give you a massage?"
"A massage?"
She clutched one knee to her chest. The pose left a considerable portion of her legs exposed; he thought it better to not bring that to her attention. Though it did limit his options for where he should look. In the end he chose her face. She did not hold his gaze, but let her eyes shift around evasively.
"It, um, it's for your back. You are still stiff and healing there, aren't you?"
"I am," he agreed."
"Good. I mean- that isn't good, but I can help alleviate some of that with a massage!"
Byleth considered her proposition, then nodded. He did have some experience with massages, and they could be quite effective at easing the tension in old or new injuries. The idea had merit, though he wondered how much experience Mercedes had. It would insult her to refuse the offer. That had likely been her intention from the start.
After her incident with the towel, he felt obligated to allow her this.
Besides, he had never heard of someone suffering after a bad massage.
The important part was that neither of them should talk about this to anyone. If word got out that they went to the sauna together, and that she gave him a private massage…
-v- Annette -v-"You did WHA-"
"Annette, shush!" Mercedes blushed furiously.
They were sitting in Annette's room, sipping tea while Mercedes tried to calm her frantic thoughts. Just a few minutes ago Annette was resting in her room, bitterly accepting the fact that despite her nearly boundless energy, the orphans of the monastery had run circles around her and Ashe. Her legs already ached in anticipation of tomorrow morning, and she had wanted nothing more than to sink into her bed and vanish in the restful oblivion of sleep.
That plan shattered like a dropped pot of ink when Mercedes' furious knocking nearly broke her door down. Now thoughts of sleep seemed a distant memory, and the horrifying tale Mercedes unleashed left Annette trembling with newfound energy.
"But you- he- the professor saw you naked?"
Her best friend in the world flushed an even darker shade of scarlet and nodded. The older girl's eyes were wet, brimming with unshed tears at the humiliating memory. No doubt it was still freshly burned in her brain.
"It… it was an accident," Mercedes murmured. She took a hasty sip of tea, hands trembling so badly she nearly spilled the cup. "I was tending to the kiln, and the towel caught on the grate… he did look away quickly. He was… oh Annette, I don't know how I can be in his class anymore. I won't be able to look at him without remembering."
"Forget being in his class," Annette cried. She slammed her hand on the table. "How are you going to explain marrying your professor to your parents?"
"Marry- what?" Mercedes blinked owlishly. Her surprise overwhelmed her nerves, and she calmed down as she stared at Annette.
"Well, you have to marry him now, don't you? My mother told me that the only man who can see a woman naked is her husband. That meant the professor has to marry you now!"
"Annette, that's… that's not how that works." Her dear friend cracked a teary-eyed smile.
Annette frowned. "But… that's what my mother told me."
Though she was terribly confused, at least Mercedes was no longer quite so shaken up. She even wiped her eyes and offered a gentle grin at Annette's confusion.
"Annette, I am sure your mother meant that you should protect yourself for your husband. There is no such thing as a law requiring him to marry me just because he accidentally saw me… well, you know. It was all so embarrassing, but he behaved like a true gentleman. He looked away, and he even tried to cheer me up in his own way."
"Did he?" She grimaced and tried to picture Professor Eisner cheering someone up. He was such a dour person the idea seemed foreign. Which was not to say he did not encourage them or offer praise. But comforting a distressed student? "How?"
"Well," Mercedes blushed again and hid behind her teacup. "He told me I had nothing to be ashamed of. That I had a wonderful body and-"
"He said WHAT!" Annette spat out her own tea, narrowly missing her friend. "How inappropriate!"
"I think he meant well," Mercedes protested. "It is Professor Eisner we are talking about. He is just odd, that's all. I do believe he was trying to make it less embarrassing for me."
"Ugh… who would have thought that our professor is that brainless? You can't go complimenting a woman's figure, even if yours is incredible, Mercedes. I mean, the boys can hardly keep their eyes off you when we're in uniform."
"Annette!"