-One Month Later-
Since the Second Plegian War, there had not been so many souls present within the Pegasus Knight compound.
After the Order's destruction in the desert theocracy's capitol, it had become almost hallowed ground. Few people dared to walk within its walls, par the masons and carpenters tasked with repairing damage from the siege. Even then, much of the work remained unfinished. There was little purpose to the reconstruction of an emptied barracks.
After the royal wedding, that status quo quickly changed.
Two parts of the compound had been fully rebuilt. The first, at the request of the Queen, had been the stables. Her word was that the home of the Pegasus Knights must be home of both Pegasus and Knights. So, the royal had completed it first, and had spared no expense in making the most ergonomic and comfortable stable house she could devise.
Next was the Knight-Captain's office and quarters, which had been put to order as soon as there were workers to spare. A rectangular, two story building that was nestled in the path between the stables and where the main barracks were being erected. It was a distinct red tint, heavitree stone having been taken from northern quarries all the way down. Rock native to both of the riders' native Duchy.
The grounds themselves were now abuzz with energy, the foundation for even more store houses, meeting halls, armories and training grounds being broken all across the designated area. So much so that the compound's territory had been expanded further, now sprawling over several acres.
Sumia had said she planned to make the Order 'stronger than ever'. If nothing, these initial efforts showed she meant it.
Though the Order had been finished in the second war, their waning had began during the first. Twenty years prior in the Crusade, their once strong numbers had been cut down to a fraction. Stories told of hundreds of Pegasus Knights soaring across the sand blasted sky, Ylissean banners whipping as they acted as the vanguard for the Exalt Dunstan.
Elite as they were, most of them never returned to the Halidom. When Dunstan was cut down at the Crusade's end, his daughter had focused the nation's efforts on civil reconstruction. Martial groups were left small, consolidated. Relegated to internal security over external conflict.
Now this Exalt intended to broker a middle ground. A defense strong enough to keep the peace and endure in war.
Cordelia hoped that all this preparation wasn't in vain. But right now, her mind was focused on more… menial tasks.
"No, no, no!" The new officer commanded. "Move the desk perpendicular with the door! Not next to it!"
The nervous workers skittered about in response, dragging the piece of furniture at the best speed they could muster. They weren't the only ones present, a team of ten butlers and maids having been taken away from their usual duties to help furnish the new residence. Many of them already wilting under the red haired paragon's harsh supervision.
She stood there, arms held behind her back, silently fuming at the sheer inefficiency of how they all went about the simplest tasks. If Cordelia had her way, she'd be doing this herself. But she'd also been asked to 'relax' and 'let others handle the busy work for once'.
It wasn't relaxing at all. In reality, she was more stressed now than usual. Namely because these helping hands were stumbling more than the Queen herself.
Maybe she should just intervene, no one would be the wiser…
The door swung open then, her head ever so slightly angling so she could spy who had arrived from the corner of her eye.
Much to Cordelia's surprise, it was none other than the Exalt himself.
The royal walked into the room with no fanfare. Yet once the previous occupants realized just who had joined their company, all motion quickly came to a halt. Every man and woman promptly dropping their current task and acknowledging their leader's presence. Most holding a deep bow from the waist, some going down on a knee and lowering her head.
All the while Cordelia stood there, her posture not changing in the slightest. In fact all she did was offer the man an amused smile.
"Good morning, your Grace." She greeted casually, turning her head forward once more as he moved to stand at her side. "I trust things are well today?"
"You would know, given your dawnguard patrol." Chrom answers, lifting a hand to release the servants back to their prior actions. A sigh of fatigue left the man, shoulders sagging.
"It was bad enough when I was merely the Prince." He confided in a low whisper, Cordelia listening on. "Before it was a bob of the head and a greeting, now everytime I walk near someone they bow and bend over."
"A respected man must be shown said respect." Was Cordelia's plain reply, eyes focusing sharply as the desk was finally positioned the way she had intended. With no scuff marks on the floorboards, thank Naga.
The blue haired man scoffed lightly, hand casually resting atop the handle of his holy weapon. Even as a statesman, he rarely seemed to part with the blade. "I've done little to earn their respect. The Capitol hasn't finished reconstruction, and the border remains a wasteland."
The Captain hummed in empathy, understanding her… friend. She could comfortably call Chrom a friend now. Cordelia understood his plight all too well. She shared it on a smaller scale, what with her new Command. All of Ylisse needed to rise from the ashes.
She pointed towards a large cabinet, then to the destination she wished for it to reach. The two workers grumbled, only to then sharply dart to the new assignment once they saw the dark expression on the soldier's face.
"All tasks, great or small, take time to complete." The Guardswoman explained, well aware that she was being hypocritical. Since her acceptance of this post a month prior, she'd dove deep into everything she needed to realize her and Sumia's vision. History, tactics, supply, economics. All subjects which she had been studying vigorously while planning. "Phila taught me that in life, we must treat it like our mounts. We cannot force our will, merely influence and guide."
"Phila was certainly wise. I understand why Emmeryn valued her counsel so dearly." Chrom commented aimlessly, frowning as he tried to absorb the information. In a way it was like practicing sword drills. To overexert yourself caused far more harm than good. Rushing progress was counter-productive, he was well aware of this.
That didn't mean he had to enjoy the wait.
In truth, he planned to use the reconstruction as an opportunity to press other reforms. The Halidom suffered from problems before the War came, it's arrival merely spread the cracks. The complete lack of a standing army was just one among many that needed correcting.
Ironic. Not long ago, he had been waiting and yearning for something to break the endless monotony of Ylisse's day to day. He relished the chance to raid a bandit camp or chase off brigands. Now he was doing everything he could just to return to those halcyon days. It would be funny if it wasn't all so stressful.
Cordelia, all the while, exhaled somberly at the mention of her deceased mentor. An act that did not go unnoticed by her companion.
"Are you alright?" He queried, concern causing his brow to crease.
Cordelia looked to him from the corner of her eye, her head shaking ever so slightly. "If only it was that simple." She remarked quietly, not letting anyone else hear the sorrowed inflections in her tone.
The man lifted his hand in response, clasping it atop her shoulder. Softly but firm around the armor she wore. Like one would try to hold a small bird. Cordelia gasped at the touch, but Chrom remained stable.
He didn't smile. He couldn't, the War had claimed those dear to him as well. Though he couldn't give her comfort, he at least provided a sense of solidarity.
"You can't force this either." He advised, voice hard from experience. "What happened was a travesty, no one thinks less of you for mourning."
She laughed bitterly, brushing a rebellious strand of her hair away from her visage. No one thought less of her for showing weakness, that was certainly a first. Normally they'd be picking her bones for the slightest misstep.
"I'll move on." She declared with absolution, before giving her liege a half-cocked smirk. "Do you always lay your hands on unmarried women? I'm not sure your wife would approve."
He smiled, laughing heartily at the soldier's humor and retracting his grasp. "Gods, no. The last thing I need is Sumia thinking I would do such a thing with her closest friend."
Cordelia rolled her eyes, but kept her expression. Both of their moods lifting from the dour subject-matter. "Please, we both know you'd never think of it. There's few couples I've seen as dedicated to each other."
"That's high praise" He says, resting his hand back on his hip. "I worry that she feel neglected. Between the Court, meetings, hearings and the like. Often times we only see one another after nightfall."
"Chrom." Cordelia begins, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "Believe me when I say this; Sumia is happier now than I've ever seen her."
"Truly?"
"Truly." She confirms, watching a tall potted plant be hefted through the doorway. Gods knows who even gifted her the thing, she loathed botany. "Did… did she ever tell you about our childhood in Friga?"
The Exalt shook his head, curious about this story about his Queen. The Captain pursed her lips, not expecting that response. Sumia rarely spoke to anyone about the troubles of her youth but… she didn't expect her to not even tell her husband.
Her mind battled over whether to tell him or not. He deserved to know, but… she of all people knew the value of privacy.
"Suffice to say..." She struggled to find the words. "...Just because we were born to nobility, does not mean she lead a joyous life."
This revelation only made Chrom more curious, but the look that Cordelia wore told him that she'd say no more on the matter.
"I… I knew she had a strained relationship with her father but…" He grasped for the best response, but found nothing. A new sense of shame crept up his spine, not having finding this out on his own.
"Ask her." Was Cordelia's final advice. "She adores you, milord. If there is anyone she would tell, it's you."
When Chrom didn't respond, she straightened herself up and rolled her shoulders. "And we all know you would do the same. As I said, what you both share is a marvelous thing."
He nodded, taking in his surroundings once more as the workers slowly began to shuffle out of the room. It seemed that the room had been fully furnished now, the walls lined with scroll-cases and other functionaries. Par the desk and a handful of chairs, nothing truly stood out. Nothing was present that didn't possess some sort of practical use.
"I am lucky to be blessed with her companionship." He mused sincerely. "And to be surrounded by friends such as yourself."
"I'm flattered, your Grace." Cordelia told the man, giving the man a simple bow of her head. "Be sure to tell the Grandmaster that I've taken his position as your most trusted confidant."
Another laugh shook out from the royal, his head shaking the idea away. But now he knew why Sumia had chosen Cordelia as her own second. She seemed to hold the same position for her as Robin did for him. It was one of many ways the two mirrored each other, in temperament and duty.
"Speaking of…" Chrom started, once again changing the subject. "I did come to remind you, the Counsel meeting is this afternoon. You have your final proposal ready?"
"I do." Cordelia confirmed, hands nervously clenching hidden behind her back. She doubted her plans for the Knights would be popular, but they were necessary.
He hummed gratefully. "Good. Frederick and Robin are already setting up in the meeting hall. We'll see you then."
Cordelia gave him another bow in response, deeper this time. He returned it with his own bob of the head, before turning to depart the office. The Captain was left alone in her vacated office, mind bouncing between the hellish meeting to come and the man who'd just left her presence.
If this had been a year ago, she wouldn't have been able to even utter a word in his presence without blathering like a fool. Now here she was, consoling him over matters of the heart.
After years of pining, she'd finally lost that battle. The so called 'love of her life' had chosen another.
Oddly enough, it felt more like victory than defeat.
In the upper echelon of the palace, two figures were indeed making preparations in the hall. Though both were in close proximity to one another, they seemed absorbed in their own worlds. Each of them making the space ready for the coming meeting in their own ways.
One man, a tall brown haired figure in silver and blue armor, walked back and forth with a duster in hand. He wasn't dressed like a butler, nor did he hold the station. Yet he was cleaning like one all the same, a dustpan and broom sitting idle in the corner after having been used.
The other, shorter and clad in a new bronze colored cuirass, greaves and sabatons was mulling over a set of scrolls and folders. Behind him, a stand with diagrams drawn about on each large page. Different shapes and symbols which meant little to the uneducated eye.
The meeting hall was nestled away from the public eye rested a small room. A long ashwood table stretched from end to end, sides lined with chairs that seemed to be more valuable than a farmer's entire crop. At the end sat two ornate thrones, one for each of the rulers. Old tapestries hung on the walls, the seal of Royal House of Lowell emblazoned proudly.
This was one of the most important rooms in the country. Where choices were made that would affect every man, woman and child within her borders.
To call Robin nervous would be a complete understatement.
He'd long since memorized every word that was one each of these documents. Hell, he'd written most of them himself. Though, Maribelle had helped him transcribe his thoughts into more official looking documents. Yet he couldn't sake a feeling of dread that hung over his mind. That the next few hours of his life would make him regret ever taking this position.
The Dukes and Electors would be clawing at his hide as they always did. The Court was very much like a battlefield, different factions constantly vying for supremacy over one another. Except here, he couldn't rely on strength of arms or quick movement. No, instead he had to use his not-so silver tongue and questionable wit.
He'd yet to make a fool of himself at least. The balls, parties and galas he'd been roped into attending had been easy to mitigate. Most of the time he'd merely acted as a wallflower, remaining at the side of Chrom and Sumia. Being in their entourage made it easy to avoid different nobles' attempts to curry his favor.
It also made it easier to avoid the multitude of women who were suddenly interested in the foreigner. Much to his visible dismay.
Rank has its benefits, though in this case it felt more like a curse. He had no interest in a one night romp.
Between all the glitz, glamour and dizziness, he'd also been utterly buried in work and tasks from the moment he'd been named and knighted. Requisition, organization, planning, budgeting, bartering, ordering, threatening. All this and more he did daily just to get what needed to be done, done.
Sometimes he found himself longing for the campaign again. At least in a war you knew who to trust.
So Robin sat there, stewing in his anxiety and ever growing irritation.
Frederick, all the while, took a step back and admired his handiwork. The room looked spic and span, one could probably eat off of the floor now that the retainer had finished.
A satisfied smile came over him as he turned to place the feather duster back amongst the rest of his cleaning instruments, when he caught the tactician's frustration. The emotion rose off the cloaked man's shoulders, filling his surroundings like a putrid smog.
"Ravaging those forms won't change what's written on them." Frederick verbally tossed his way, his own metal clad boot giving Robin's chair a not so gentle nudge. The Grandmaster's entire body jutted from the sudden momentum, a few of the papers rolling off the tabletop and onto the ground.
Groaning, Robin doubled over to collect his fallen plans. Frederick gathered together his own items, bounding them with cloth and setting them aside where they would be unseen by the coming visitors.
He then turned to walk back towards his former comrade, just as Robin was reorganizing the mess. "This is only the first of many council meetings. Losing your nerve now will set a poor impression upon the nobility, keep that in mind."
"It's the only thing on my mind." Robin shot back through grit teeth, setting each document in the order of which he planned to present them. At first he'd planned to carry it out like a military briefing, but he realized that would fall on deaf ears for many in this crowd. Now he planned to move step by step, section by section. Like a lesson given to school children.
"Relax." Frederick advised, arms at a parade rest as he gave the room one last inspection to ensure that everything was perfect. His eyes focusing on the portraits, artifacts and heirlooms that mounted their surroundings. "Panic is the bane of success."
"And lectures are the essence of tedium." Robin grumbled back at the man, forcing himself to lean back into his chair. "How do you know anything about these meetings? You're not a ruling vassal."
"Perhaps, but-" Frederick began to explain, lifting a steel mitt to adjust the wayward angle of a painting. "-I have watched over more of these gatherings than some of the Electors." He informed, before continuing on his march. "Remember that I was Lady Emmeryn's protector before Milord's."
"Great." Robin droned, his head sagging back. Much as he wanted to spend the rest of the time waiting in silence, he knew better than to pass up a chance to gain some kind of helpful knowledge. "What should I expect?"
Frederick halted again, this time running his hand down along a curtain to wring out some wrinkles. "Remember that regardless of their titles, Grandmaster, these men and women are simply that. They have their needs, wishes and vices. And each of them is the hero of their own story."
"So I'm going to be in a battle of egos." Robin lamented. "Remind me again why we don't just have Chrom make all the choices? It'd save me the headache."
Frederick shook his head. "No man can rule alone. Though I have the utmost faith in the Exalt, he is still unpracticed in matters of the state."
"Which is something I'll bet you these 'nobles' are going to try and use." Robin pointed out quickly, not relishing the idea of his friend being manipulated by the denizens of various ivory towers.
Chrom, Gods bless his soul, was many things. Dense was sadly one of them.
The Knight turned about, his gaze now focusing squarely on the door. "He needs guidance from more than just ourselves." Frederick observed. "Experience is the most valuable resource… something you lack in this field."
That earned Robin's ire, the Plegian sitting back up and giving the knight a frigid glare. "I'm doing what I can."
"Be that as it may, I speak truth." Frederick answered, not even bothering to even tilt his head in Robin's direction. "Control your emotions, tactician. Lest they control you."
The Plegian man sighed in defeat turning his own gaze towards the entrance. He drew out a small pocket watch, the silver device having been gifted to him by Frederick's spouse the day of his appointment.
His stomach growled in tempo with the watch's hands. In spite of the warnings, he could still feel his mood plummet further and further.
This had all better have been worth missing breakfast for.
Not long after, the event began. The former Shepherds found themselves surrounded by the most powerful people in their world. Powerful and… colorful.
Seven men and women of different temperaments and ideals. Three Dukes, one Duchess, three Electors and an Archbishop. Each of them reigning over one of the substates that made up Ylisse. Their lands were all of different climates, trades, resources and histories. Yet the one thing they shared in common was a loyalty to the Altean descendants and House Lowell. The Exalt and his family.
Well, in theory at least.
In action each of these territories were extremely autonomous. These men and women controlled their own economies, soldiers, cities, farms and populace. The Exalted line had long since afforded them vast freedoms to act as they saw fit, only ever rallying them together in times of war and crisis.
Chrom realized changing that would be dangerous. But after Plegia, it'd become deathly necessary.
As he walked into the room, Sumia following behind at a quickened pace. Both he and his wife had decided to wear their usual dresswear, with the Queen clad in her old knightly armor.
At once, all people in the room rose from their chairs, dismissing whatever previous discussions and activities they'd been involved in. Four of them on each side, heads turned to look in their direction. Nothing was said, no other motions were made. Merely waiting for permission to seat themselves once more.
Respect for their station, but not specifically for them. He hadn't earned that yet.
Frederick and Cordelia both stood behind where their Lord and Lady moved to sit, the two protectors sharing a wary glance at one another as the nation's leaders took their places. Soon after, all others returned to their positions, while the soldiers remained standing at their posts. All the while Chrom took a mental role call of all those present.
First on the right were the Duchies' leaders.
Closest to him was Lord Conway, the Duke of Themis. A tall, lanky man who held a perfectly trained posture. A blonde like his daughter, shortly cropped in contrast to her long drills. A fur cloak hung off his shoulders and a steel grey breastplate shined. Unassuming as he was, the Duke had a reputation of being a hard lawman. Many legal scholars and enforcers hailed from his home.
His lands also held the Halidom's largest ore mines; iron, gold and copper rich in the tall border peaks.
Next was the Duchess of Friga, Kaltrina. Her pearl-like skin was contrasted by the sharp fire of orange hair that rested on her shoulders. She wore a simple white dress and cape, along with an unassuming golden tiara. Her appearance nearly mirrored that of an ancient Valmese Queen, though her mannerisms were far more rebellious. Of all those present, she was probably the deadliest with a bow or dagger.
Her lands had claim over the quarries and trapping centers. Stone and fur were gathered in the north, then distributed south.
Then came Duke Arvin of Lefandi. A short, stodgy man who better resembled a hound's chewtoy than a person. Balding, bearded, greying and borderlining on senile. Easily the oldest man in the castle, let alone at the table. Though he still refused to step down, claiming he could still rule his homeland better than his 'airheaded son' could. Everyone loathed him, but his people still followed the crotchety man due to his undeniable administrative skill.
Lumber and seafood were his main exports. Along with being an honest pain in the arse.
Finally was the newest, and debatably most powerful subject. Duke Roderick of Archanea, the largest Duchy directly south of Ylisstol. He'd recently taken the position after his father's demise on the battlefield. The man was actually an old friend of Chrom's, both of them having been instructed by the same tutors growing up. Even if their first reunion in years had been at Chrom's wedding, he trusted the man more than any other Duke.
Archenea was the breadbasket of the nation. The amount of foodstuffs produced in the vast fields it possessed was so disproportionate, any crop failure spelled a certain famine for everyone.
Those were the people who, frankly, mattered.
To his left were the 'Electors'. Rulers of the old island states off the coast that had remained under Altean rule through the years. The Principalities of Talys, Pyrathi and Warren. Their contributions as to Ylisse as a whole were meager, but territories of their size were not expected to provide much outside of self-sustainment. Still, tradition and honor granted their leaders a word in national affairs.
Even if that word weight little compared to those across from them.
Robin present as well, sitting across from Roderick. Chrom prayed that the others couldn't see through the tactician's thinly veiled impatience as well.
"I trust you were all able to travel here safely?" Chrom began at last, both of his hands resting at the table's edge.
"As safe as one can be these days. No risen to be found on the Northroad anymore, thankfully." Kaltrina head turned to give Arvin an unimpressed glaze. "Though I am surprised Lord Lefandi arrived without a broken hip."
"Mind your tongue." The man snarled in response. "I made it here fine, no thanks to any of you. Not a single member of the Knighthood patrolling the roadways! My men at arms were the only protection I had! I could have been killed!"
"And what a tragedy that would have been." Conway hummed sarcastically under his breath. "Travel was safe enough. The Duchy is still being rebuilt, but Ylisstol has been kind enough to lend aid so our roadways are in proper order."
"Ours as well." Roderick followed up. "Though the damage we incurred was light compared to that of your lands, Lord Themis."
"My people and I have suffered worse and survived." The man corrected, waving a pair of fingers in dismissal towards the young blood. "Compared to the ravages of the Crusade, I shall take the sacking of my capital over the slaughter of my subjects."
"Honorable words." Sumia offered with a kind smile.
"Feel-good bleathery." Arvin spat, adjusting his seating with a notable thump along the wood. "Can we get on with this? I can already feel myself boiling this far south."
"You'd complain even more if we were in my castle, you bag of skin." Kaltrina retorted. Just as her antagonist moved to reply, Chrom delivered both a lethal glare. The woman promptly returned to her previous disposition, while the old man muttered something about disrespectful brats.
"I called you hear today so we could discuss topics of martial import." Chrom explained calmly, wishing that these meetings didn't escalate like this every time. He gestured to Cordelia and Frederick as they remained as his vigil. "Captains Volkner and Cadwaller will be presenting their plans for the replenishment and reformation of their Orders."
The Exalt then also pointed forward. "Grandmaster Medon will also be laying out his Army reforms." Chrom informed, Robin standing to his feet and bowing to the group before sitting down quickly.
"So we'll finally have some law and order again. Finally." Arvin grumbled. "I warned your sister that disarming the nation would have consequences. But no, she didn't listen to me. Too terrified of acting like Dunstan."
"Weren't you one of Dunstan's Generals?" One of the Electors asked, a light brown haired woman wearing a mage's garb. "In my Uncle's time you were one of his most fervent supporters."
"That was a long time ago girl." He answered defensively.
"All of our predecessors supported Dunstan's Crusade." Conway reminded tiredly, this point of contention regularly being used as a black mark to discredit one another. "Even my Mother did, and it got her eaten by a wyvern."
"All of our families have much to be ashamed of from the conflict." Chrom asserted, taking control back of the discussion. "It's why we learn from their failings, so we need not repeat the mistakes of the past." He paused for a moment, making a mental apology to his fallen sister.
"But after the brazen destruction of our western lands, it's clear that we need our strength reinforced. Not just with the Knightly Orders, but a standing Army as well."
Words of agreement echoed through the room, some less enthused than others. As poorly as the second war had started, they still won. A return to the old ways could mean a return to old habits, something that would not end well for anyone involved. Chrom's father, even before the war, used the military to rule with an iron fist.
The blue haired noble looked over his shoulder, nodding to Frederick. His former lieutenant came forward, hands utterly empty as he continued to keep them clasped behind his back.
"I've been honored to be selected by milord to become Captain of the Ylissean Knighthood." Frederick began, the man towering over the nobles as his voice boomed. "Over the past few weeks, I've worked closely with the Grandmaster to create a unified plan that will ensure our efficacy and ability remains unparalleled."
He waited for anyone to dare speak a word out of line, but not even a breath seemed to leave his captive audience. "In a fortnight's time I plan to reopen the Knighthood examination, and intend to take a class of a hundred new squires. There will also be another opportunity in six months time."
"Two-hundred trainees taken on in a single year." Conway commented briskly, fingers tapping along the table-top. "That's quite the large class, Captain. Are you sure it's sustainable?"
Frederick gave the man an uncharacteristic smile, one which Cordelia read for a ploy to ease the man. "The Knighthood has a standing roster of two-hundred fully fledged members." He explained simply. "Another hundred are due to have their accolades by year's end. We have little to fear for instructors."
"I was under the impression that the Knighthood had undertaken extreme casualties." Kaltrina interjected, resting back with her arms folded cleanly against her bust. "Many of your veterans are dead or crippled, Sir Frederick. This feels like novices teaching novices."
Robin opened his mouth to interject, but was silenced as tall ironclad man lifted a hand to stop him. "Duchess, what makes you think those who died were veterans?" He asked the woman.
"Excuse me?" She answered, bewildered. "What do you mean how I 'think' they were veterans?"
"I am merely asking you explain to me what you believe a veteran to be, my lady." Frederick pressed, his previous expression falling in line back to his stone cold normality.
The Duchess frowned, but humored the man. "An experienced warrior, clearly. One who's gone through many contests of arms."
Frederick made an odd huff, nodding. "Agreed. That is what a veteran soldier is supposed to be. However, that is not what our Order was staffed by."
"I beg your pardon?!" Kaltrina questioned in indignant disbelief. "How could they not be veterans, most of the fallen had been Knights for almost a decade!"
"Yes. A decade where they never had to engage an enemy more skilled than a common bandit." Frederick asserted plainly. "Many of them did not even do that, having spent their time merely puttering about in the Halidom's strongholds. How often did the Knights stationed in Friga sally out to deal with unwanted elements, Duchess?"
Kaltrina didn't answer, instead thinking over the man's query. The huntress frowned as she realized the validity to the man's words. Her Knights very rarely patrolled unless explicitly ordered… even then they often remained close to the city and castle. Outer towns were left to the protection of local militias, or the Shepherds.
"Damnation." She growled, before looking over to the others at the table. "Was this the same for every other territory?"
"With the exception of Themis, yes." Frederick informed, shooting a glance to Conway. "Which, unsurprisingly enough, is where most of the Knighthood's survivors hail from."
"Good to see those drills and raids paid off." Conway commented idly, smirking in victory towards his northern counterpart.
"They did indeed." Frederick confirmed. "Which is why I'm also no longer keeping the Knights garrisoned within cities. After my experience in the Shepherds, I've decided that a separate garrison will be erected for the knights somewhere in each territory."
The other Dukes and Electors had no response to that, though the sense of disagreement was palpable in the air. No knights meant that they would have to spend their own funds in keeping their cities garrisoned.
Even then, evidence had shown it was ineffective regardless.
Frederick coughed into a fist, alerting the group to him once more.
"The Knighthood was one thousand men and women strong. It's a fraction of its former strength now because we foolishly thought peace would be eternal." The man's voice dipped, tone turning solemn. His mind flashing as he thought back to the picture of many of his former students broken and bleeding across the Plegian desert.
"Unfortunately, reality has a way of disappointing us." He finished, shaking the dark thoughts from his mind.
Sensing Frederick's stumbling, Robin removed a set of scrolls from his sack. The tactician placed them in the center of the table, allowing each of the rulers to take one for themselves. "In there are the reforms that we've implemented into the Knighthood to ensure we do not repeat the massacre at the Plegian Capitol. Captain Cadwaller approves, and will execute them accordingly."
Each parchment was taken, with all the attendees reading over the words printed. Robin turned to look at Frederick, lifting a brow to silently see the man's condition.
The Knight inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he recuperated himself. He merely nodded back to the Grandmaster, and that was that.
"...You're imposing recertifications." Roderick commented, his mouth a thin line. "What will happen to those who are unable to maintain their position?"
"They will be retired." Frederick said. "With full honors and titles, along with a pension. If they wish to rejoin the Order, they are free to retake the examination and be restored to their previous rank."
"And this change to the examination itself." Arvin points out, finger jabbing the ink on the page. "You're allowing people to retake it now? Why on Naga's earth would you want to let failures into an elite group?"
"Because failure is the best teacher one can have, my Lord." Frederick asserted. "I care not for one's ability in the past, only in the present."
"And this… officer's training." Conway mused with sheer curiosity. "Explain this to me."
"That would be best left to the Grandmaster." Frederick said, to which Robin stood from his seat to address the group.
"With the task of raising a new Army, there comes the issue of new leadership." Robin began. "Smaller groups can be led by local gentry, however high command will require more educated heads. Bluntly speaking, Ylisse has no Generals. We lack even the framework to train them. Plegia, on the other hand, regularly trains new war fighters. In Ferox, fighting is their life. Peaceful as we are, we can't be undefended. So to counter this, the highest scoring Knights will be selected to be trained for upper command."
"Traditionally we are to be Generals in times of war, Grandmaster." An Elector dressed in a deep blue jerkin and fur doublet. He wore an unimpressed, almost asleep look. As if this entire discussion was below him.
Robin, already upset and not wanting to deal with any of these 'nobles' and their pride, merely frowned back.
"Really?" He shot back, moving to walk towards the man. The Plegan took a position behind the man who'd been foolish enough to speak up, leering over him with malicious intent. Each of the purple eyes on his overcoat seemed to focus towards his current target, whom was now shrinking into his seat.
"You're the ruler of Warren, right?" Robin asked, permitting the man to nod. "Have you ever planned a logistical route through occupied territory?"
The man shook his head tentatively, to which Robin leaned further down. "Have you ever ordered an advance through a cavern, with plans to escape in case of ambush?"
Another shake of the head. "Have you ever been an assault on a stronghold, watching men and women getting shot dead before even making it halfway to the walls?"
The man tried to speak, but now the Plegian leaned down and close, jaw clenched with venom dripping from every word. "Have you ever even fought a battle?"
At this point, the nobleman released a meagre squeak and practically melted into the floor. Robin stood back up, adjusting the sleeves of his coat.
He then walked back and promptly took his seat once more.
"If an Army is to function, it needs more than eight Commanders." He declared with absolution, challenging anyone else to try and combat him. Him of all people, the man who likely had more warfighting experience than all of these Dukes and Duchesses combined. The tactician who'd helped kill Gangrel. The one who'd helped end the War.
No one dared to say a word. When the time to vote came, Frederick's plan passed unanimously.
Chrom smiled, despite himself. That was one matter won, though he shot Robin a clear gaze of disapproval.
"Milord." Frederick whispered, catching the silent exchange between the two men. "It's almost noontime. Perhaps we should take a short recess for lunch?"
Chrom hummed, taking the opportunity and moving to stand. "Yes, that would be best. Allow our heads to cool. It is certainly sweltering this summer, more so than usual."
"This is why I offered to host this meeting. Friga is lovely this time of year." Kaltrina reminded, tutting away before she stood herself. "No matter, I'm famished. My stewards forgot to pack enough food as usual, I almost had to go track some down myself."
There wasn't any objection to the idea, and so people began to shuffle out of the room with an agreement to reassemble in half an hour's time. One by one each noble drifted out, moving to speak with their own staff.
Frederick, in the meantime, marched over to Robin and swiftly grabbed the man by the cloak.
"You. My office. Now." He demanded, dragging the Plegian off as he didn't even try to defend himself. Sumia, Cordelia and Chrom each scurried off after them. Only one part done and they'd already entered a standoff with someone.
Chrom, knowing his friend, was just glad he hadn't smacked him.
Though his ears felt like they were bleeding, Robin managed to return to the counsel room with the others.
The past twenty minutes had been a ceaseless berating from all three parties. Chrom and Frederick screamed him deaf, going on and on about how he could have easily thrown the entire vote into disarray over one smug man. He'd been successfully goaded by a lesser noble, of all people. It was utterly shameful.
Sumia was utterly bewildered, rarely having seen Robin ever become so hostile towards someone. Robin had a temper, certainly. But he was also generally good natured, and rarely seemed to lash out at anyone. Part of her expected the Plegian to begin strangling the Elector on the spot.
Most of the lecture went in one ear and out the other. He knew he'd crossed a line, and promised to stay mostly silent for the rest of the session.
But the whole scene just set something off. Every time they said something to slight the remaining Knights, the only thing he could picture were his friends. Stahl, Sully, Kellam. All of them were going to be instructors for this new group.
They'd all fought through hell to survive the war. Each of them had nearly died timeless amounts just so Ylisse could hang on by a thread. Sully had the horse she'd grown up with killed right underneath her, Stahl was nearly eaten alive by Wyvern Riders. Kellam, Gods he'd been almost boiled alive in his armor by mages. Lissa and Libra had barely managed to save each one.
They were heroes. They were heroes and these 'nobles' were treating them like a carpet. What else was he supposed to do? What kind of person wouldn't defend their friend in that situation?
Certainly not the kind of man he wanted to be.
Still, he could have gone about it better. Making a fool of himself wasn't going to help anyone.
"What's the next topic then?" Conway asked, taking a sandwich tray from a passing maid. A few workers had entered the room, providing the guests with requested refreshment from the castle's kitchen. Smells of fish, poultry, juice and tea intermingled with one another as fresh meals were presented.
The Grandmaster and Frederick were off in the corner, the Captain deciding to keep the Plegian on a tighter leash. Cordelia, knowing what came next, stood nervously behind the Exalt and Queen.
"The Pegasus Knights. To which my wife and Captain Volkner will explain." Chrom told the man, the clunk of iron boots behind him signaling Cordelia's approach.
Sumia, all the while, jumped at the mention of her name. Black coffee shot up, spilling onto her saucer and the floor below her.
"Sorry, sorry!" The woman said, more directed to the maid who swiftly move to dry the splash than anyone else. A few eyes rolled from the crowd, Arvin's especially. Roderick chuckled at the show, while Conway and Kaltrina watched expectantly.
"Uh, right. Right!" Sumia jumbled out, going up and setting her saucer back down with an unceremonious clunk. "Cord- I mean, Dame Cordelia and I've been really excited to show you all our vision for the Pegasus Knights. We put a lot of time, and effort, and research, and planning to make sure everything's great!" She told the group with unfettered enthusiasm, hoping that her complete and utter panic wouldn't rear it's ugly head.
Cordelia laughed nervously, moving to stand at Sumia's side. "What her Highness means to say is, we've laid out a well thought plan to repopulate and reform the Order of Pegasus Knights from its current status. As you all know, reconstruction of our compound has already begun."
"Indeed." Kaltrina commented, eyes focused squarely on Cordelia. "You gave me the privilege of a guided tour, Captain. I am impressed with what you have so far."
"Better be impressive with the price tag." Arvin grumbled, displeased. "That place isn't even half-done and it's already cost as much as a whole city block to make. What did you people put there, an Outrealm gate?!"
"Calm down, Arvin. Before you give yourself a heart attack." Conway said in exasperation. "Your Highness, Captain. I apologize on his behalf, continue."
Sumia smiled nervously, trying to gather her nerves back to a pliable state. "W-well, with reconstruction going ahead of schedule, we were thinking of opening up recruitment early. The old Shepherd barracks are empty now, so…"
"They'll work fine as a temporary dormitory." Cordelia finished. "The training grounds and castle stables should be enough space for the inaugural class. Roughly a hundred women."
The heads at the table bobbed up and down in agreement, seeing no issue with the arrangement. The showing made Sumia visibly untense, shoulders coming down as the straps of her armor chaffed.
"We're also expanding the roster." Cordelia pressed, gesturing to a map that had been hung up behind the royals. The southern half of the continent was clearly shown, with lines and marks having been scrawled on from top to bottom.
The red headed woman took a few steps back, pointing to the center of Ylisse where the capitol resided. "Our headquarters will remain here, along with a Company under my personal command to act as guards for the royal family."
Her silver gloved finger shifted, moving left and landing on the city of Themis. "Each of the Duchies, once we've trained enough new knights, will have another company garrisoned. The same goes for the island vassals."
"So we'll have to build new stables in each of our cities now." Kaltrina commented dryly, eyes piercing at the speaking soldier's visage. "Is this necessary? The Knighthood will still be present to patrol even if they aren't present."
"With respect, Duchess." Cordelia began, clearly unnerved from being lined up in this woman's crosshairs. "While Frederick's Order will patrol the lands of the Halidom, my Knights will be used as more of a…" She paused, trying to think of the words. "A reactionary force."
Kaltrina rose a brow, her gaze softening. "Explain."
Breathing an internal sigh of relief, she continued. "I plan to train these new riders to arrive and resolve developing or known situations. Say, for instance-" She moves her finger to Friga, landing on an open to the Friga's southern border. "A squadron of cavalrymen discovers a bandit camp. They would note the position, then return to their garrison. There, a Pegasus Knight messenger would be given the information before she flies back to the city." Cordelia again pointed to Friga's capitol. "Here, the company's Captain would organize a group to strike the camp and eliminate the threat. All of which could be done in about…"
She looked over to Robin, letting him give the estimate.
"A day, at most." He spoke. "Assuming Frederick's troops don't decide to deal with it themselves, in which case it would take even less time."
Kaltrina hummed, sizing the tactician up with trepidation. "This was your plan, Plegian?"
Robin shook his head quickly. "Not at all, Captain Volker and her Highness devised this. I merely calculated distances."
The Duchess nodded, settling back in her chair. "Good to see Frigan women are the brains of your outfit." She spoke, earning a blush from both of the women in question.
Robin, rolling his eyes, leaned closer to Frederick.
"Do they always try to one up each other like this?" He asked, feeling annoyance bubble up in his breast once more.
Frederick snorted, the corner of his mouth turning up. "This is nothing, wait until a proper court meeting occurs. Then they all traipse about like peacocks. One of them will likely try to secure a lasting alliance with you."
The Plegian, reading what 'lasting alliance' meant, immediately blanched in fear. "I request to be excused." Robin immediately pled.
"Denied. We all have to do our duty, even if it is unpleasant." Frederick corrected, his smirk growing. "Besides, you're single. Perhaps you shall find a woman to spend your life with."
Robin groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I have enough problems in my life, I'm not adding courtship to the list."
Frederick merely chuckled in response, ever grateful for the wedding band present on his own finger.
"Dame Cordelia." Roderick spoke, lifting a hand to gather the woman's attention. "Exactly how many women do you plan to recruit to the Order?"
Cordelia hesitated, looking to Sumia for the go ahead to speak the point. Sumia nodded, letting her friend reveal their intent.
"In two years time, we hope to have one thousand women garrisoned through the Halidom. The Grandmaster hopes to incorporate us as a regiment." The Captain informed, expecting the sheer disbelief that was eliminated by the others.
Arvin leaned forward, his frown growing at the silly idea. "And dare I ask how you plan on training that many women to become elite soldiers? Quantity and quality do not mix."
"We go company by company." Cordelia retorted. "Fill out the ranks of each garrison, one city at a time. With each class being given six months drills, and time to tame their own steed, we should be at strength in two years time."
"With respect, Captain." Conway spoke. "I am unsure if we have enough eligible women in the nobility to reach that quota. Knight training must start at seventeen, no?"
Cordelia nodded, stepping in front of the map. "I'm… aware." She acknowledge, mentally bracing herself for the backlash of what she was about to say. Decades of tradition, about to be thrown underfoot.
"Which is why I plan to allow commoners to enlist in the Order." Cordelia declared, voice strong and unrelenting.
And with that, all hell broke loose.
Nighttime. Deep in the city's lower quarter.
Peter Natal stood at his bar counter, casually drying an iron mug with an old hole-filled rag. His tavern remained mostly empty tonight, as it usually during the weekdays. His wife and little boys had already retired for the evening, leaving him and his visiting daughter to keep watch over the establishment.
The past month had been blessedly silent for him. No unwanted visitors, no heart-stopping surprises. A few drunken brawls here or there, but nothing unmanageable. A bit of yelling, some threats, drawing out his old battered blade. The same song and dance he'd gotten used to ever since he'd opened this place. Even if it started off as a front for his 'extra-legal' activities, at his age he'd begun to prefer this business over his others.
Part of that was because of what happened the day of the royal wedding. After everything, he'd been so sure he'd finally meet the Divines that bright afternoon. Life as a smuggler was a life on borrowed time, especially if you gained enemies. But by Naga's grace, an old friends and some strangers had spared him an early tombstone. He wasn't sure why Anna'd been so willing to sacrifice gold for his safety, or why someone as self-serving as Gaius had changed his stripes. But in the end they'd saved him, and expected nothing for it..
When the dust settled and Rourke had been imprisoned, he'd gone up the castle and personally thanked the eight Shepherds. Promised each of them as much ale as they could drink as a show of gratitude.
Though, he hadn't expected one of them to cash in this soon.
Cordelia sat slumped over the bar and forehead planted on the wooden counter. An empty tankard stood vigilantly over her partially inibered form, grey glistening in the orange candle light. She wore no armor nor accessories to denote her station, merely keeping a red and white shawl draped over her usual outfit.
The Captain lifted her hand, waving it in the vague direction of the tavern's owner. "Refill." She ordered, voice still crisp and unslurred.
Petey grunted, grabbing the bottle in question by the neck and pouring it to fill the tankard once again. Purple spirit poured freely from the container, filling her mug up until there was nothing left. He then placed the empty bottle back down, returning to his previous activities.
"Won't be safe to head back to the castle soon." He reminded, eyes looking out to the lantern illuminated street. "This part of town gets real frisky at night."
"I can-" Cordelia groaned with effort, lifting her head and moving her bangs back out of her face. Her gloved hand took the tankard in a steel grip, sipping at the beverage before setting it back down. "-Handle a few brigades."
"Sure, but I dunno if you can handle ten of'em half-drunk." Peter commented leaving the dried cup on the drying rack next to it's similarly soaked siblings. The old man sighed, shuffling back over to the disparaged knight and resting on his elbow.
"Y'can stay here until sunrise." He offered, jabbing a finger upstairs. "Got a guest room with a bed and blankets. Not nice like you're used to, but it's something."
"I'm used to tents and lumpy bedrolls." Cordelia corrected, having spent many a night of her service sleeping under the stars. Even before the war she rarely had a proper mattress to sink into.
"Right, forgot. You're some kind of soldier-girl." He remembered, rolling his eyes at the young woman's unwavering pride. Though he kept an eye on her, focusing mostly on the white wing clips that kept shining in her sea of red. "...Thought all of your troop died in the war, though."
Cordelia's face twisted in contempt, but Peter remained stone-faced. Tactless as it was, he was merely speaking the truth. He'd offered her a bed and was feeding her without cost, it was clear the barkeeper meant her no ill will.
Not like the nobles had shown her after her announcement.
"Not all of us did." She replied in a frigid tone, moving to drink once more before she said something less kind.
He nodded in understanding. "Good. Enough people died in that fight anyway." The man recalled, watching two figures outside of the window.
Cordelia nodded, the alcohol making her numb to any self-loathing. Though that was sure to change. "Last month, you said that you had lost your siblings in the war."
Peter just shrugged, expression unfazed. "They were militiamen. Nobodies."
"They were no less valuable than my sisters in arms." Cordelia affirmed.
Peter just snorted with that. "Cute sentiment, kiddo. But your people were the best fliers in the world, my brother and sister just stabbed things with a pike." She shook her head in disagreement, but the barkeep was having none of it. "Listen, they knew the risks. Everyone did, the Exalt didn't press people into service. I know they wouldn't want be crying over it, so I don't."
"But you miss them. You must."
"Of course I do." He said. "And I'm glad my kids all got an aunt and uncle to be proud of. Wish they were still here, but I'm more proud then sad now."
Those words rang in Cordelia's mind. More proud then sad.
If only she'd reached that sentiment.
Their recollections were interrupted by the telltale sound of an opening door, the two figures from outside having finally made their way in. Both of them were clad in older brown cloaks, one clearly taller than the other. Each had hoods pulled over their heads making their appearances indiscernible.
Though that didn't last, one of them quickly removing the hood and revealing themselves to be the one and old Plegian Grandmaster. The other remained silent, hovering behind the man as their head twisted while trying to see all the establishment had to offer.
Cordelia smiled, very much happy with this state of affairs.
"I was wondering when you would come down here." She informed, turning back around as her white haired companion promptly sat himself down next to her. The knight took another sip from her mug, relishing the fruity flavor and holding it with both hands. "When did you figure out where I was?"
"Little over an hour ago when we saw your office was empty." He told her. The third figure remained behind them, still observing the sights. Robin meanwhile leaned over, inspecting whatever she'd chosen before settling back down. "Hey, Pete. What's she having?"
"Honeyberry ale." The man said, crouching down and drawing out yet another bottle. "More sweet than strong, though she's had more than a few mugs. Want some?"
"One for my other friend as well." Robin asked, to which Peter complied. He took two more dried mugs, placing each in front of a stool then filled them. Seeing that they'd been offered refreshment, the figure came forth and sat on the stool on Cordelia's opposite flank.
Peter squinted his eyes at the hooded guest, then glanced back to Robin. "This another one of the Shepherds?" He asked the Plegian.
Robin nodded, taking a swig of the ale. At once his purple eyes lighted up, instantly falling in love with the flavor. "Woah. This is great!" He declared, gulping down even more of it with gusto.
Their friend watched Robin drink away happily, cautiously extending their own hand from under the guise. A feminine, purple gloved hand moved to take the cup. She then brought it to her own lips, before also beginning to drink the spirit with fervor.
Peter chuckled at the sight, leaving the bottle so the three could take from it. "Looks like I've got a new favorite to keep stocked." He commented, before looking back to Robin. "Y'know, she can ditch the hood. Not like we don't serve women here."
The mention of revealing her identity seemed to make the woman freeze in her action, placing the mug back down carefully. Robin grimaced, pondering the idea in his head.
Cordelia just sighed, nudging her counterpart with her elbow. "It's fine, you can trust him. His wife is the person who baked your wedding cake, after all."
Natal blinked at Cordelia, not registering the connection. The hooded figure hesitated, but acquiesced. Her gloved hands moved to lift the hood from her head, pulling it back to reveal the face of the Halidom's own Queen.
Peter blanched immediately, the old man's entire frame seizing up as he realized just who the hell was in his run down tavern. Words tried to leave his mouth, but only came out as jumbled blather. Robin snickered evilly as the poor dastard stammered like a child, as did Cordelia.
Finally, he stopped. Shock subsiding as he came to terms with the situation he was in. "Queen Sumia." He managed out calmly, before glaring at both Robin and Cordelia. "Why is it everytime you two come here, something strange happens?"
"We're weirdos." Robin answered with deafening bluntness, returning to nursing his drink.
"He's the weirdo, I'm his babysitter." Cordelia rectified with a grin. "Well, technically I'm both their babysitters."
"Both of them…" Peter repeated, the math adding up in his head. "Oh my Gods, you're the Captain of the Pegasus Knights." He then turned to Robin. "And what're you, a Count or something?"
"Grandmaster of the Halidom." Robin corrected as well, finishing his mug and sliding it over. "And uh, needing a refill. Please?"
"Gods' sake…" The man muttered, filling the mug up before moving over to the Queen once more. "Your Highness, I'm sorry that this place isn't exactly up to royal standards."
Sumia shook her head rapidly, a happy smile coming to her face as well. "Ii-it's no trouble at all!" She quickly amended, the same nerves she always presented when meeting new people coming to bare. "I a-acctually like this place, it's so… homey. I can tell you really do care about it."
Peter laughed heartily, hands clutching his beer-belly. "Well, that's the best endorsement I've ever gotten! From royalty no less!" He said, taking the previous empty bottle and offering it to the royal. "Here, take this. Label's still on so you can order some for the castle."
Sumia's eyes twinkled at the sight, quickly jumping to take the bottle and hold it close to her person. "Thank you so much! This is the best ale I've ever drank! The others always pick something so… burny."
"She's the biggest lightweight I've ever met." Cordelia told the man, causing her superior to blush violently.
"I'm a short girl, it's completely natural!" She protested.
"I'm only a few inches taller than you and I can out-drink Lon'qu." Cordelia pointed out, to which Robin quickly averted his eyes. No one here needed to know that Princess Lissa could drink him under a table.
Sumia pouted, cheeks puffing up before she set the bottle at the side of her stool. She then turned back to Peter, smile returning. "So this is where the cake came from? I didn't know such a great baker lived under this roof."
Peter nodded, pointing a finger up to the rooms above him. "That's my wife for ya. Girl's a proper mage with a whisk. She never told me where she learned to bake like that but, by Naga I'm grateful."
"Well I'm glad she has such a kind man as a husband." Sumia added with a warm smile, nodding over towards Cordelia. "She didn't give you much trouble, did she?"
"Tonight? Nah. When we first met? Oh, brother." He recalled, now making Cordelia blush under the new spotlight. "She ended up getting into a brawl, broke half my chairs."
"Really now?" Sumia asked, grinning towards her friend. "My my, Captain. Bar fights? How rougish of you."
Cordelia didn't respond to the jab also retreating to the comfort of her drink. Meanwhile Robin lifted a hand, a pained expression now present. "Uh… say, Petey? You got a bathroom?"
He looked back at the man, his stone-faced expression mounting back up. "Outhouse is in the yard. I'll show you so you don't trip over yourself."
Robin muttered a thanks, not even speaking against the remark. Peter opened the door leading into the kitchen, letting the Plegian hop out quickly. He said something to a person in the back, then followed Robin out of sight. Afterwards a new figure, a woman with deep black hair, walked out and continued to wash the dishes.
The two friends remained at the counter, sharing a giggle with one another.
"He's like a child sometimes." Sumia commented. "You should've seen him at the wedding, he whigged out so much when I talked to him about the job."
"He's a lot like your husband. No wonder they're as close as brothers." Cordelia noted, stretching arms out wide and groaning. She'd lost track of how many hours she'd spent drinking in this chair. Too long, judging by how stiff her shoulders felt. And how warm her face felt. By damnation, this ale was good. Plus it was a good escape from the disaster that had happened earlier.
Sumia swirrled her drink before sipping once more, licking her lips. "So. You're alright now?" Cordelia kept her arms outstretched for a few moments longer, letting both fall to her sides with a 'thump' before sighing in relief.
"Still a bit frazzled but, better." She assured. "I didn't expect so many of them to scream at me for the proposal."
"It is an old tradition." Sumia reminded. "But it isn't law so, whoever joins is totally up to you. They can all whine as much as they want."
"Sure, but now I've got a target on my back." Cordelia lamented. "Arvin tried to vote down all of our other plans out of pure spite."
"Arvin's an old coot who still thinks we're in a hundred years ago." Sumia said, dismissing the elderly man. "And your reforms did pass, so that's proof that they think you're capable enough."
"Just means they don't trust me."
"Well that's a shame, considering I get to choose who runs the Order." The Queen added with a cheeky grin, the washmaid giving both a quick glance from the corner of her eye.
Cordelia laughed softly, fingers drumming against the counter's cracked wood. "Since when did you get so assertive? What happened to the meek girl who was scared of her own shadow? I almost miss her."
Sumia rolled her eyes, her smile shrinking at the mention. "I'm… still that girl." Sumia admitted. "B-but I… I need to be strong now, y'know? I've got to take care of everyone. Not just you, or Robin, or even Chrom."
"But you're still terrified."
"Oh Gods, yes!" Sumia readily exclaimed. "I almost fainted when Robin went off on that Elector! This stuff's almost as stressful as Plegia!"
"It's… really sad how true that is." Cordelia said, lacing her fingers together and keeping both hands atop the counter.
Sumia hummed, going to take another sip before continuing. "Speaking of Robin…" Sumia started, eying her friend. "Have you made your move yet?"
"Excuse me?" Cordelia asked, completely taken off guard.
Again, Sumia rolled her eyes. "Come on, Cordelia. You know what I'm talking about."
"I know what you're insinuating, but it's preposterous." Cordelia quickly spoke, frowning gravely at her companion. "Robin's our friend, not some frivolous courtier."
"Oh please, dear." Sumia said. "I see how you two look at each other, that isn't 'friendship.' Not a normal kind anyway."
"Have you been binging 'Ribald Tales of the Faith War' again?" Cordelia accused with a pointed glare.
"Yes." The Queen admitted in a small voice, their silent eavesdropper turning red in recognition of the infamous novel. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong!"
"Sumia." Cordelia began. "He's. My. Friend. That's it. You talk to him as much as I do."
"But I don't act the same way as you do around him." Sumia hummed.
"And how in the world do I act that's so odd?"
Sumia lifted her hand, a finger lifting with each point she made. "You're always smiling. He makes you laugh. You're always hovering around each other. Both of you clearly trust one another a lot. And-" She lifted her thumb, signifying her final point.
"He's the only man you seem relaxed around."
Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, but then promptly shut it. In fact she didn't do anything for a handful of moments, mind clearly contemplating the situation. Before she reached over for the still heavy bottle, then refilled her tankard.
Sumia cocked a brow, waiting for a response. "So, am I right?"
"No." Cordelia once again affirmed. "I'm not some love-lorn maiden anymore, I've moved on with my life onto more important things."
"And what's more important than you being happy?" The Queen asked, genuine concern in her words.
"Making sure the Pegasus Knights are restored and keeping our home safe." Cordelia declared, drinking from her freshly filled glass. "With the new standards in place, we'll be getting many new recruits. I need to ensure that they're ready."
"Wonder how many commoners'll sign on." Sumia hummed. "It'll be nice to see some fresh faces."
"Don't want to see old faces from back home?" Cordelia teased, regaining her previous mirth. "Come now, where's your Frigan spirit?"
"So we can deal with your Aunt's grandstanding again?" Sumia asked, shaking her head. "Noooo thank you. Though your cousin's likely gonna show up."
"All of our cousins will, we're famous now." The Paragon corrected. "The last two Pegasus Knights, heroes of the Halidom."
"You're the hero, I'm just a bureaucrat now." The royal adjusted, lifting her iron mug up for a toast. To which her friend joined her, both containers clinking together in meager chorus.
Both of them returned to drink, the discussion moving to less serious topics. Soon Robin and Peter returned, the man having properly relieved himself and Peter having brought out a box of sweets from the stores. The four of them shared the night together, each one trading stories over the antics they'd gotten into.
The washmaid finished her work, quietly leaving to the rear room. Hours later, the trio left together, somewhat intoxicated and in higher spirits than they'd come. They stumbled back up to the castle, catching and cradling one another all the way. To the average citizen, they were nothing special. Just three friends enjoying being alive.
Sumia's claim still rang in Cordelia's mind but, it didn't bother her.
She had friends like this, and that made her happier than ever.
A/N: Less of a wait than last time at least. Back to school time's here, can't wait to suffer through another college semester. Discord I mentioned from last chapter's A/N is still open for business.
Can't promise when the next update'll come but, it'll come. Take care y'all.
o/