The tiered tray of sweets was impressive. So impressive, in fact, that Annette found herself craning her neck just to see the professor's face over the top of the display. A fragrant cup of sweet apple tea sat between her hands, warm and cheery, but the soothing scent did little to set her at ease.
It was going to take more than her favorite tea to quell the nervous butterflies in her stomach.
She shifted in her seat, desperate to catch a glimpse of her professor's face. The man wasn't one for many words, but sometimes an expression was worth more. And this question was too important to let it go unanswered, even if his response was nonverbal.
"I was just thinking," she continued, the words tumbling out faster than she would've liked, "and I feel like we work really well together! I know things went without a hitch at Derdriu, so..."
The professor took another cookie from the tray and examined it, then sniffed the frosting.
Did he not hear me…?
"Professor," Annette raised her voice, "I want your permission to be Felix's adjutant for the final battle against the empire!"
Byleth took a tentative nibble at the corner, then raised his eyebrows as if to silently express his approval of the flavor.
Is...is he even listening to me!?
"Yes, I know Mercie's cookies are good—"
"Where are we getting these ingredients? War rations?"
Finally, some kind of response, albeit not the one she was looking for. "P-professor!"
"You're doing great work," he answered and shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth.
"That's...that's not…" Annette scowled and took a hearty swig from her teacup. A little too hearty. The hot tea burned as it hit the back of her throat. She coughed.
Byleth somehow always seemed to sense whatever she wanted to talk about before even speaking. Despite his quiet demeanor, Annette suspected he heard every word she said, and he was instead choosing to focus on his teatime sweets. In a way it was a relief. Maybe this time he actually wasn't one step ahead of her. She silently hoped that was the case.
The last time she approached the professor with a battle formation request seemed so long ago. After spending the morning rehearsing her prepared speech in front of the mirror, he quickly accepted her request without any further inquiries. At the time it felt like such a big deal—asking to be someone's adjutant wasn't typical, and it was the professor's responsibility to make those assignments.
But this time… this time was harder. This time there was no mirror rehearsal. It was difficult to even put her desire into words, and even harder to craft a speech. And this time they were facing their biggest battle of all. So when Byleth invited her to tea, it felt like the perfect opportunity to spring the question... but now she was having second thoughts, and her courage was quickly dwindling.
"You know," Annette said as she selected her own cookie, a large star-shaped pizzelle that just so happened to be blocking her direct line of sight to the professor, "it was actually Ashe who gave me the idea. Well, not the first time I asked, but we got talking about adjutants, and… well, there was this book—"
"—dreamy knights?" Byleth asked through a mouthful of cookie.
"W-what?!"
What is he trying to say?!
"The book," Byleth washed down his cookie with some tea. "Loog and the Maiden of Wind, right?"
"Oh," she said flatly. Annette felt her cheeks turn red. Of course he wasn't making some comment about Felix's physical appearance, and just thinking about it made her face feel even hotter. "N-no, I think it's a different book."
The professor continued to sip from his teacup with no further comment.
"Professor?"
Byleth slowly resumed eating his cookie. His sharp eyes darted across her face. Annette squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. The professor was known to scrutinize the company of those he entertained for tea, but somehow this time felt unsettling, almost as though he could see past the veneer of her request. And Annette definitely did not want him to know the real reason.
"I'm not planning on assigning any adjutants, actually."
"You… you aren't? But why?"
He took another sip from his cup. "I need every available resource at the ready. We'll have to spread out. Fodlan's future rests on this last effort."
"Ah…"
Of course. How could she be so selfish? There was so much ground to cover. It was only natural they would extend their resources to their limit. This was the final push, after all.
"Your ambitions…" Byleth paused and offered a faintly sympathetic look, "Whatever you need to do before we head out, now is the time."
She felt her breath hitch in her throat.
My ambitions… what is it that I truly want?
The professor resumed eating his cookie with slow, deliberate bites. She felt like she was under heavy scrutiny again.
"Maybe I should've baked us a cake or something…" Annette sighed and finished the last of her tea.
Wait.
She slammed her hands on the table and sprang to her feet. "That's it—! Oh, that'd be perfect! I mean, it wouldn't exactly be a cake, I know he doesn't like sweets, but I did ask Dedue for suggestions and I never got around to making anything for him!"
Byleth cocked his head in confusion. But it was too late for explanations. Besides, he was the professor, he'd undoubtedly find out what she was talking about eventually, whether she liked it or not.
"Oh, thank you, professor, this is the perfect suggestion!"
Annette offered a polite bow—it would do no good to forget her manners, after all—and immediately tore off through the courtyard. The sound of stone and grass pounding beneath her feet hammered in time with her own pulse in her ears, a frenzied song without words.
I had my chance as an adjutant. Twice. I can't rely on the professor to set up opportunities for me.
But I do know how to cook! And… and if I can prepare something that might give him a boost for the next battle… well, that's just as good as being an adjutant, right?!
She ran through a list of recipes in her head. Felix was fast and nimble, so maybe something to give him a little extra speed in his step? Or what about a dish to aid his immune system with a bit of pep so he wouldn't get sick again? Perhaps a good Quin Fish Saute or a Swift Fish Gratin? Of course, it'd need to have lemons in it somehow—
Suddenly something collided with her as she crossed the threshold into the great hall, and she tumbled backwards.
"O-oh no, are you okay?! I just—you were moving so fast, I didn't—"
The voice of the unintentional roadblock was warm and familiar. "Ashe?" Annette groaned and rubbed her forehead. "I'm fine, you just startled me, that's all."
Ashe's panicked face came into view as he leaned over her. A large bag of dried goods rested over his shoulder, most likely supplies from the market judging by the canvas material. He carefully extended a hand and while maintaining his balance. "I'm so sorry, Annette, are you sure you're okay?"
She grasped his hand and rose back to her feet. "Never better, actually. In fact, I was just on my way to the kitchen! Is Dedue on duty today?"
"I think so," he said. "Are you looking to trade?"
"Not exactly," Annette hesitated. She recalled the tea party several months ago, Flayn's persistent attempts at girltalk, and several uncomfortable speculations made by her closest friends. Something akin to guilt squirmed in her stomach. If Ingrid's comment about Ashe's adjutant request was to be believed...
Is it appropriate to even ask?
"Ah… Ashe, can I ask you a question?"
"Y-yes?"
"Were you planning on asking to be my adjutant for the battle at Gronder Field?"
Ashe's freckles turned two hues darker. "Um… I mean…" he cleared his throat. "That's… where's this question coming from?"
So it was true. Oh no.
"I'm sorry! I had no idea... I must have seemed so insensitive at the time!"
A group of monks jostled by, and Ashe shifted his bag out of their way. He looked grateful for the interruption. Once the hallway cleared again, he drew a breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's... it's okay. I mean, I probably should have seen it coming," he chuckled to himself. "I did say Felix was just like that knight in my story, after all."
A weight lifted from Annette's shoulders, one she hadn't even realized she was carrying. The thought of Ashe being upset with her was unbearable, especially with their final battle in sight. Seeing him smile was a much-needed reassurance. "For what it's worth," she said, "you're still a great knight yourself, Ashe."
"I… I aspire to be one, but in this case…well, I don't think I'm quite the same as the knight you're thinking of."
A nervous flutter seized her chest. "I-in the book! I'm thinking about the book!"
"So am I," Ashe laughed. His anxious tension from moments earlier nowhere in sight. "That's why I should've known from the start. After all, every good knight needs a supporting squire to encourage them."
Something in his tone suggested the topic at hand was deeper than just the plot of Ashe's favorite book. Annette nervously played with the fringe of her shawl. "I… I need to know how that story ended."
"The ending? I'd never spoil the ending of a good book."
"I know, it's just… I don't have time to read the whole thing, but… what if… what if that member of the knight's party was very fond of the knight in return? What did they do?"
"Annette…" his expression softened. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes! I have to! Before it's too late!"
"Too late…?"
"We're about to head off to the empire at the end of this month! I… I need to know before then."
He paused, folding his arms in thought. "Honestly? The knight never works up the courage to outright tell her how he feels."
A sinking sensation dropped in her stomach. "Never?"
"Never."
"I thought you enjoyed stories with happy endings, Ashe!"
"I didn't say the ending was unhappy. They successfully complete their mission, restore peace to the land, and their friendship ties them together with a bond that endures the rest of their lives."
That definitely wasn't the ending Annette was hoping for, and she knew disappointment was written all over her face. "I guess… that's as good an ending as I could hope for."
Her shoulders slumped. Seeking guidance from a storybook felt like a new low. Even if it was a fictional tale, Annette couldn't help but feel her own circumstances would probably pan out in a similar, unsatisfactory way. Besides, just because the knight in Ashe's story harbored certain affections didn't mean Felix—
Annette swallowed. Was she prepared for that reality? Life wasn't a storybook. Simply feeling a certain way did not mean her feelings would be mutually returned, or even acknowledged. The best she could hope for was showing her support without overstepping her bounds. Anything beyond that would run the risk of ruining whatever camaraderie existed between them. That sort of bond took years to build, but a single, selfish moment could easily ruin it in an instant. Staying friends was far easier and safer.
The professor's advice rang in her ears.
My ambitions… my plans for the future… I want to go home to my family. I want to sing for everyone. I want...
A twinge of embarrassment tugged at her. Even though it was weeks ago, Annette's behavior during the celebratory party after the reclamation of the kingdom wasn't nearly as composed as she'd like. With their final battle in sight, the future weighed heavily on everyone's mind, and all it took was a few glasses of mead and a convenient encounter in the halls to spill her hopes and dreams to Felix. She was drunk enough to speak her mind, but not so drunk that she couldn't recall every single awkward word the next morning in vivid, humiliating clarity. Thankfully she had enough self preservation even while tipsy to avoid sharing all her deepest wishes, but it was still more than enough.
Of course, in typical Felix fashion, he never made any mention of it, as if it never happened. But he was sharp. There was no way he'd forget, just like he never forgot any of her songs. And just knowing he wouldn't forget made everything all the more embarrassing.
But… my plans require saying goodbye. And I don't want to say goodbye. Not yet.
Obviously Felix's own aspirations after the war were practical. Assisting Dimitri, carrying out his father's duty, restoring his territory… all to be expected, and wholly reasonable. What else would they be? It was foolish to expect anything deeper, and ridiculous to hope that any of his plans involved her whatsoever.
What will happen to us after the war? Will we still be friends?
"Annette?" Ashe's voice gently cut through her gloom. "Are...you still headed for the kitchen?"
"What?"
"Remember? You asked if Dedue was available… are you planning on baking something?"
"T-that's right! Well, not necessarily baking, but… I was talking with the professor, and I had the idea of maybe whipping something up for a little boost before our last battle," she confessed.
"A boost?" Ashe touched his chin in thought. "That's not a bad idea," he mused. "Flayn mentioned there's an impressive stock of fish in the pond this week. Maybe some Queen Loach or Bullheads might be just what you're looking for. I'm surprised you're not baking though. You and Mercie did such a great job with that cake after we returned from Derdriu."
"You think so?" she puffed out with pride. "That was all Mercie! She's a magician, I swear! But Felix doesn't like sweets, so I'm trying to find alternatives…"
She trailed off and silently cursed herself. Ashe was watching her with a half smile, as if he knew all along who she was really planning on cooking for.
"I'll tell you what," Ashe reached into his bag and handed her a small parcel, "I'm supposed to be on greenhouse duty today. Why don't you take over for me, and I'll go fishing? We can meet in the kitchen after dinner tonight and come up with something together. Maybe even Dedue will have some ideas."
"You're offering to help me?"
"Of course I am. What are friends for?"
Annette untied the twine encircling Ashe's parcel—packets of seeds, each wrapped in thin, brown paper, their labels written by hand. Before the war, seeds were easy to come by and sealed in thick, heavy envelopes, but wartime rendered everything scarce. She marveled at some of the rarer flower and vegetable seeds Ashe managed to acquire. "But… Ashe, will these sprout in time before we depart for the empire?"
"Maybe. We won't know if we don't try though. And besides…" he added, his smile warm and gentle, "I did say every good knight needs a squire to encourage them along, even if all they can do is plant seeds for a future they may never see."