I know I started the last chapter with an author's note, but I have to drop a quick acknowledgement to Cosmic Sky [ID: 4306679]. They leave a lot of nice comments on this story, one of which directly led to elements of discussion in this chapter.

They're also a damn good writer, and I wouldn't be surprised if you saw me mention them again as a point of inspiration for certain plot points later on.

Part 1 — Horsebow Moon

Instead of finding the body of Seiros in the Holy Mausoleum's crypt, the Western Church defectors unearthed the Sword of the Creator: A Heroes' Relic once wielded by the King of Liberation that was believed to be inert due to Nemesis not passing his crest to any heir. Yet the Professor of the Blue Lions could wield and utilize the ancient weapon, leading to a decisive victory. With this knowledge, Professor Hanneman — the world-renown Father of Crestology — determined that Byleth's previously unrecognizable crest was, in fact, Nemesis' Crest of Flames.

Byleth would receive a crash course in the potential dangers of his new, powerful weapon during the Verdant Rain Moon when he and his students were assigned to retrieve House Gautier's Heroes' Relic from Sylvain's disowned brother Miklan. Having lost his inheritance because he wasn't born with a crest, Miklan formed a gang of bandits and stole the Lance of Ruin.

During their encounter at Conand Tower, the lance's power grew malevolent in the hands of a non-crest bearer and turned Miklan into a terrifying Black Beast. The Blue Lions succeeded in stopping the rampaging beast and retrieving Sylvain's birthright, but at the cost of Miklan's life.

Yet there was no time to celebrate or mourn, as upon their return Byleth was assigned to help find Seteth's sister Flayn, who had been kidnapped in the night by a familiar reaper.

The air around Garreg Mach was growing tenser by the day. It seemed as though the school year itself had been cursed from the offset, and students were beginning to notice. There were an exhaustive number of major, tumultuous events happening month after month: Lonato's revolt, the invasion during Rhea's Rite of Rebirth, House Gautier's Relic being stolen and now a rash of kidnappings that reached as high as the Archbishop's right hand.

No doubt it was hard to focus on advancement exams with the myriad of other stressors rearing their heads. Some were even beginning to question whether the upcoming Battle of the Eagle and Lion would continue as planned.

But one positive thing this cursed year had done was foster a closer community.

The Dining Hall was bustling more than it had ever been on a Sunday afternoon. Usually students used their free days to travel and take care of business in nearby towns; now they relished in the opportunity to break bread with one another, ignore the evils of the world and ensure their friends were still safe.

Kitchen staff — assisted by the young, fair-haired Lysithea's insatiable sweet tooth — worked overtime to pump out bowl after bowl of Peach Sorbet. The fruit was in season, and a ravenous mass of bodies was eager to take advantage.

Students were standing over their peers just to get their hands on the seasonal treat, making the communal chamber feel fuller than ever. Near the door into the Entrance Hall, Sylvain tried stealing a spot by sitting in Ingrid's lap.

It was all fun and games until she retaliated by unearthing the childhood memory of him flirting with her grandmother, which drew rancorous laughter at his expense.

From the far back corner seat across the hall from that carefree laughter, Marianne sat hunched over her bowl of sorbet. Her typically sullen expression was brimming with a smile as she ate in peaceful silence, all on her own.

She didn't mind that no one appeared to want the open seat beside her.

But soon enough a familiar voice arose from behind, suggesting the end of her ever-coveted solitude.

"Marianne?"

When the voice broke her trance, the blue-haired girl accidentally dropped her spoon into the bowl. She straightened her posture as it clattered against the porcelain goblet and looks over her shoulder with a hand covering her mouth to hide the over-indulgent bite that now threatened to asphyxiate her.

It was Dimitri. Of course it was.

Marianne tilts her head back slightly to hard swallow the sorbet, and then lightly pants as she brings her hand down to wipe it off on her skirt.

"Oh. Yes?"

The blond prince offers a gentle smile.

"May I sit here? There isn't another open spot."

"Um…" Marianne looks back at her food and nods. It would be rude to say no, even if she preferred the rare opportunity to be alone in public. "You may."

As Dimitri takes the open chair, Marianne scoots to the opposite edge of her seat. If she moved the chair entirely it would obviously squeak against the floorboards, otherwise she would have tried.

"My apologies for not picking a better time to ask," Dimitri remarks with a slight chuckle. "You were awfully engrossed in that sorbet. I don't know that there would have been a better time."

Though his tone was clearly full of jest, the sentiment makes Marianne's stomach churn. He had seen her pigging out… Eating like a beast.

How embarrassing.

"I like this dish," she mumbles while her cheeks flare up. "It was my father's favorite…"

"Was it?" Dimitri looks to her with a curiously raised eyebrow, but quickly looks back to his dessert when he sees her trying to collapse into herself.

"Yes. I don't really want to talk about it, though."

Marianne picks her spoon up again, but uses it to push the remaining sorbet around to each part of the goblet instead of eating. The prince does his best to focus on his dish, but only gets a bite in before turning his attention back to her.

"I used to eat this quite often as a child myself. We don't have many fruitful harvests in Faerghus on account of the soil, but peaches have always been a popular import."

She doesn't respond beyond a vague half-nod. All of her energy is spent pushing around the slurry of the half-eaten sugary dessert.

His small talk was falling flat, and Dimitri did not know how to proceed.

For a little while he goes back to eating. However, he only gets about three bites in before the awkward air settling between them became too much.

"I'm sorry… I should have eaten in my quarters," Dimitri says while pushing his dish aside. "I know you asked me to stay away from you."

Marianne feels her chest ache when she hears that. She looks up from her food and holds a hand out to stop Dimitri before he stands.

"No, it's fine." She puts her hand down on the table, watching him nod and settle back into the seat before continuing.

"I don't mean to be rude, Dimitri. But that request…" Marianne gently nibbles at her lower lip, trying to come up with the words. "When you said you didn't regret risking your own life…"

"About that." She's surprised when he interrupts her, but doesn't stop him. "I apologize for whatever foolish thing I said to upset you, truly. But I don't believe I can continue to uphold the agreement."

Marianne's eyes widen behind the shade of her bangs.

"Y-You… Can't?"

He shakes his head.

"I've spoken with the Professor on the matter, and we're in agreement."

Dimitri cautiously reaches out and rests his broad, calloused palm on top of her more demure hand. He can feel her tense underneath him, but her lips are glued shut.

"If you believe your life is unworthy of being saved, then you are mistaken Marianne. I cannot allow any of my comrades to forfeit their lives and push me away."

His words bounce around in her head, but they sound alien no matter how long she mulls them over. It was wrong. All wrong. She thought she had made that clear enough before, but apparently not.

Trying to swallow the lump of nerves caught in her throat, Marianne looks to one of the lit candelabra that adorned the Dining Hall tables. It seemed odd to her that they were being used even while bright, white daylight poured in through arched windows all around the room… But they were aesthetically pleasing if nothing else.

Maybe she could burn her hand on the flame to get out of this conversation.

"It's just… There is only misfortune for anyone who comes near me."

"Misfortune?"

"I'm afraid so." Marianne closes her eyes and tries to scrunch her hand into a fist, which gives Dimitri the hint to pull away the hand on top of it. "Especially for those with complete disregard for their own safety."

Her voice came out somewhat hoarse, as though she were a hundred miles away. The prince recognized her energy.

"If you're trying to tell me I should be more concerned for my own safety, I suppose I could improve in that regard."

He ends that thought with a brief chuckle, but finds no joy in return.

"As for you causing misfortune," he continues, voice falling to a serious, genuine octave. "I think that's far from the truth. In fact, I find you to be a lucky charm of sorts."

"Me? Lucky?" Marianne's knee-jerk reaction to that statement had her voice crack, after which she looks down in embarrassment. Her cheeks run red again. "I'm sorry, but I don't agree with that at all."

The smile Dimitri had grown seeing her flush falters as she continues.

"My entire life up to this point has been nothing but a string of unfortunate events."

The prince shakes his head while resting a hand on her shoulder.

"But misfortune finds us all. Perhaps those around you have suffered or even perished, but look at you." He leans his head in a bit to try and catch her downward gaze with a smile, but she looks the other way. "You're still here, alive and well."

"That's…"

She trails off trying to come up with a response, and Dimitri capitalizes on this.

"Think about this Marianne. If you were not here, you could not have accompanied the Blue Lions on the few quests you have." He leans back and crosses his arms. "Were that the case, both Felix and Annette likely would not be here."

Somehow the compliment makes Marianne look glummer.

"I don't…"

"In fact, if you had not been in the Holy Mausoleum that night we encountered the Death Knight, I would have been scalped."

Marianne rapidly shakes her head no and speaks with a little more authority.

"Mercedes could have easily healed you all and cast Nosferatu, and she would have done it all far more effectively than me."

Dimitri clicks his tongue as he clears the blond hair falling in front of his eyes.

"We could argue the semantics of who is more 'effective' for days, Marianne. That isn't the point." He leans against the table and tilts his head down to try and catch her gaze again. This time he succeeds. "You aren't superfluous because of Mercedes. For instance: Were you not at the mausoleum, she would have to choose between saving me from the reaper's scythe or Annette from her wounds."

Marianne felt a chill down her spine as she anticipated the next bit, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"I would not have advocated for myself."

The blue-haired girl takes a deep breath through her nose.

"Hence… I'm good luck…" She reluctantly acknowledges.

Dimitri smiles. "In my book, anyway."

She understood his logic well enough, but that didn't seem to brighten her mood. As she looks at what was now a meagerly filled cup of fruit juice, lost in thought, Dimitri clears his throat to pull her back.

"It doesn't feel good, does it… To be the one left behind? You feel guilt for not dying along with the others."

A sharp pain stabs through her heart and her breath evaporates. Never before had she heard someone express so clearly what plagued her mind at almost all hours, even when she wasn't fully conscious of it. It's like he could see right through her.

Marianne had never felt so… Intimate. So vulnerable.

"H-How did you know?"

"You and I are the same," he says plainly. "I believe I told you once… Maybe you should fear being cursed with misfortune for coming near me."

Hearing his comment sends her right back to the first day at the Officers' Academy when they were standing out in front of the classrooms talking. When he was the first person to notice her regardless of any social contract. When she felt like she might have made a friend — with someone as insane as the Kingdom's crown prince.

Those thoughts bubble up from her throat as a giddy little chuckle that melts the sadness from her face, leaving a sweet, secure smile in its place.

Dimitri looks a little shocked at this, but his speech becomes more jovial.

"Ah, a smile and a laugh. Coming from you, that's a rarity." His face settles into a contented smile. "This must be my lucky day."

"I just find the idea amusing," she says while twirling a loose strand of her hair. "It's strange to think that someone like you could have anything in common with me."

"Is it so terrible a thought?" He asks with half a chuckle cutting the punctuation.

"No, no. It's not that. It actually makes me happy." She looks up at him, beaming for the first time in… Ever? "As though there's finally someone who understands how I truly feel."

In spite of the raucous of the Dining Hall around them, Dimitri and Marianne remained in their own personal bubble of conversation for some time after. A few members of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer passed glances upon the two, but they were none the wiser.

When he slid the remainder of his Peach Sorbet before her, she was more than happy to finish the treat.