By the order of the emperor, Byleth Eisner, the writ of attainder for Alonso von Aegir is hereby revoked. His heirs are authorized to take possession of his titles and lands according to customary law. Done this day the twenty-first of the Verdant Rain Moon, 1186.

Byleth pressed her signet ring into the hot wax and handed the parchment to Ferdinand. "Congratulations, Duke Aegir."

Ferdinand bowed low. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Byleth grimaced. She wondered if she would ever hear those words and not have the urge to look for Edelgard or Dimitri. "None of that now. It's just Professor to you."

"Professor." His smile was brighter and warmer than it had been since the war began. "With you at our head and me taking my rightful place as Prime Minister, there is nothing we cannot do for Fódlan. I already have some proposals for—"

Byleth held up her hand. The rest of the day would not be nearly so pleasant. "You aren't Prime Minister, not yet."

Ferdinand stepped back. His wounded expression always reminded her of a kicked puppy. "Why ever not? Aegir has held the post of Imperial Prime Minister since the days of Wilhelm. Please, tell me how I have displeased you so that I may rectify my failure."

"You haven't failed at all. But things are so fragile right now that I need to know that I'm appointing the best possible prime minister. All I've ever seen from you is as my student."

"I see. I must prove my worth." His jaw set and his brows creased together as if this were a tactics essay. "I am not sure how. I could not defeat Edelgard in a duel, but you could. How am I to surpass you?"

A dull pressure throbbed in her temples. She had only been emperor for a few weeks, and the logic of nobles would probably always confuse her, no matter how often Lorenz tried to explain. "What does a duel have to do with being prime minister?"

"Well, how can someone who is inferior offer advice? I must surpass you if I am to offer aid."

The pressure was in serious danger of becoming an ache. "But don't ministers normally handle running the country? Very little dueling?"

"Well, there was the Warrior Prime Minister but no, not in recent times. Tell me how I may prove myself worthy, then?"

"Help me, please. Accounts, tax records, I don't know how to make sense of any of it." She opened a desk drawer and pulled out the reams of parchment they had been able to salvage from the Imperial Palace. Some were charred around the edges, and all were an impenetrable line of numbers and names that made no sense to her untrained eye. She handed them to him.

He studied them, alternatively frowning and humming and Byleth was left alone with her thoughts. She was Emperor of Adrestia. The golden circlet that was the sole concession to her new rank felt strange. The last few weeks had been an endless parade of meetings and the nobles that had survived the war scurrying to pay homage. Soldiers wearing Imperial red were mixed in among Alliance yellow and Kingdom blue. Bergliez was deferential, if not friendly. The dream of a united Fódlan was closer than at any time since the War of the Eagle and Lion.

She just had to figure out how to actually unite the thing and govern it without setting off a cascade of rebellions. And find Thales. And make good on her promise to do something about all the injustice and inequality she had seen. Her dad had meant only to protect her by keeping her so he ignored the world, but right now she would have taken on a dozen Beasts for a crash course in how the world worked outside of a mercenary company.

Ferdinand looked up. "Professor. I have good news and bad. The good news is that assuming that the Imperial treasury was not completely looted, we have enough gold to sustain the remnant of the Imperial Army on a war footing."

"That's good. Most of the Alliance would lose their minds if their taxes were going to the Empire. What's the bad news?"

He slid one of the record sheets to her. A series of numbers had been crossed out and replaced with much smaller numbers. "These are the estimates for the harvest. After...after Gronder, the estimate was reduced by around forty percent."

"I see." And she did. They had raged over the most fertile land in the Empire, trampling over newly-planted crops. It was brutal and desperately unfair, but there was a reason commanders preferred attacking enemy supplies to pitched battle. They had ensured that a siege of Enbarr would almost inevitably be successful and would have destroyed Edelgard's popularity as the population slowly starved. It had never come to a siege, thankfully, but the devastation remained.

He handed her another page. "There seems to have been some plans to import food supplies from Faerghus as tribute, but if Cornelia is truly an Agarthan, we must find an alternate supply and before winter. The Empire seems to have maintained surprisingly good relations with Brigid, so they may be willing to assist, but they are too small to solve our problem. Now, there is Dagda, but even staple crops would cost a premium."

"Meaning?"

He sighed. "Even if we eliminated all expenses but the essentials, to bring food totals to the original estimate and fight a war would bankrupt the Empire by the Pegasus Moon."

"So, we have six months give or take to find and defeat a shadowy threat that has dogged Fódlan since before the church was created, and Thales seems to have vanished now that he doesn't have an army to play with anymore." She rubbed her temples. "It's fine. I've already done twenty-two impossible things. What's a twenty-third?"

"That's the spirit! A true emperor must press forward despite the odds." He sobered. "If Cornelia is Agarthan, then she is our only lead to their location. We must liberate Faerghus, and soon. By the coming of the Ethereal Moon, at the very latest."

A little over three months. Three months to conquer a country that the most powerful military the world had ever seen had taken over by trickery and a coup. "We are going to have to muster every resource have. No one can remain behind, and even then we are going to have to have some of the most brilliant strategies ever devised." She shivered. She wielded the preeminent Relic, but sometimes she was reminded of just how little her power mattered. "And I don't imagine the usual raiding tactics will force Cornelia to engage in battle. She doesn't seem like the type to care about pillaging." A question nibbled at the edge of her mind. "You said Adrestia was originally receiving food from Faerghus. But even I know that Faerghus barely covers its own needs in a good year. How were they going to feed all those people?"

"Permission to speak freely? I don't think they were. I think Edelgard would have allowed a famine in a vassal realm to prevent one in her own. As cooperative as she has been, and as fond of her as you seem to be, do not forget how few scruples she has."

I have not forgotten, she wanted to say. But the truth was that sometimes she almost did. The frightened girl beneath the Palace, the woman she chatted with so easily when she had had tea with her, the emperor had used even Beasts to win her war, they were all the same person. "I will speak to her about it. Right now I have to meet with Shamir. "She forced a smile, and it felt too wide. "Thank you. You might make a fine Prime Minister yet."

It was a relief to escape the office she had commandeered out into the courtyard and training grounds where things made sense again. A group of soldiers led by Ashe and Leonie were practicing their archery and despite herself, Byleth felt a flush of pride when Leonie hit a bullseye. It had taken what felt like forever to convince her that she didn't have to be a perfect copy of Jeralt to be a great mercenary, but she had transformed into a fine archer, just as Ashe had become a fine lancer. It was a small taste of what she and Claude hoped the world would be like when their work was done—people from different nations working together and learning—. but she would take any scrap of optimism that she could get at the moment. If only everyone could work together so seamlessly.

Who said they couldn't? They would need novel tactics to quickly overcome the Dukedom. She and her students all fought differently and came from different places and yet they had turned the war around in only half a year. What if that was scaled to the entire army, not just her handpicked students and their personal guards? A force of infantry, archers, and mounted and aerial cavalry under the command of one officer. Each compensating for the weaknesses of their fellows. It would have to be organized carefully, entrusted to those whose discipline and commitment were unshakable, but it gave them the hope of victory.

She felt the gaze of soldiers and monks as she passed, different now. There had always been those who truly believed she was the Chosen of the Goddess and all but threw themselves at her feet, but now she had secular power as well. The Alliance and Kingdom citizens didn't bow, but there was a newfound respect in their eyes for the woman who had forced their hated enemy to abdicate. Claude must have been very pleased with himself, maneuvering her into taking the crown to save Edelgard's life. If he had his way, the crown of Faerghus and leadership of the Alliance would soon follow. It made her head hurt just think about. But whether the crown of Fódlan fell to her or she found some other competent fool willing to take it off her hands, someone had to do the hard work of rebuilding. Of making sure people didn't starve.

Shamir was in the stables, wearing a long cloak despite the heat. She had been dispatched to the ruins of Fort Merceus in the slim hope that examining the damage could tell them something useful about Agartha's mysterious weapons. ""Shamir?"

She nodded ever so slightly. "Byleth. Don't tell me you become one of those nobles who insists on her title."

"Byleth is fine. Did you find anything?"

"Nothing useful. A lot of stone reduced to very small rubble very quickly and we already knew that. But I did find something." She threw back her cloak to reveal the thickest scabbard that Byleth had ever seen, Thunderbrand's hilt barely visible. She unbuckled it and held it out gingerly. "I found Cyril's weapons as well, but they were safe enough to bring back the cart. " Pain flashed across her face. "I found their bodies, too. There wasn't enough to bring back."

"I'm sorry." She should say more, do something, but she didn't know what.

"Another partner dead. I don't believe in the Goddess, but Catherine…" She gripped Byleth's arm tightly enough to hurt. "You better make damn sure that her death matters."

"We will."

"Good." She released Byleth. "You should get that sword to Rhea. There's probably some rite she has to do."

Doubtless. And it would be a chance to ask Rhea about what Edelgard had said before the coronation. Edelgard had sounded as if she believed it, but it was but it was so different from the accepted story that her head spun. An accepted tale that included a Goddess who Byleth knew wasn't in the heavens. What she wouldn't give to have Sothis back for an hour.

The third floor was as silent as the grave. No one but Seteth, Flayn, Cyril, and the Holy Knights were allowed in Rhea's personal domain. And her. She knocked. "Rhea."

"Enter, child."

Rhea's quarters betrayed unmistakable signs of neglect. A thin layer of dust coated the furniture, and the sheets hadn't been changed since their return from Enbarr. Rhea herself sat in a chair facing the window, staring at the courtyard below where soldiers trained. Her visible wounds had healed, but without the episcopal robes and headdress, she still looked painfully thin. She turned her head and gifted Byleth with a small, sad smile. "In times past, the Emperor would often grace the Archbishop with a private visit. I never thought I would have one again. To what do I have the honor?"

"I'm not here in an official capacity." She looked around. "This place could use a good cleaning."

"I suppose so. Cyril was always so industrious about it. And I have had so little energy since my release. I suppose I should sleep, but I cannot. Not when those who have destroyed my kin and plunged Fódlan into darkness yet live."

The scabbard felt suddenly unbearably heavy. The sleep Rhea spoke of was one from which she wouldn't awaken, and Byleth was balancing her on the precipice between despair and survival and against the need for answers. Maybe Edelgard should have crowned a street performer instead. "Catherine and Cyril would want you to live on and be as happy as you can."

"Live on? I have lived on past more loss than you will ever know. With every death it becomes a little harder." She beckoned Byleth closer. "I can sense Thunderbrand. Give it to me, please. You shouldn't exhaust yourself carrying a weapon not meant for you and I…I wish to see her."

Byleth's ears perked up but she handed the scabbard to Rhea. Rhea pulled the blade free. It didn't glow with power, but neither did she show any sign of increased fatigue. She ran her fingers along the spiked edges of the blade as if she were caressing a child's hair. Something was wrong here. She had seen Rhea so angry that even she was frightened, but never with this sort of madness that mistook weapons for living things. What were the Relics? "Her?"

Rhea froze. "I misspoke in my exhaustion and grief. Forgive me."

"Rhea, please." She made her voice as gentle as she could. "I know that what the church teaches can't be the entire truth. I've heard such a strange story from Edelgard. Help me sort the truth from the lies. You're the only one who can."

She made a scoffing noise. "It's quite simple. Edelgard lies as easily as she breathes. Or have you forgotten the Flame Emperor?"

"I haven't. But she sounded like she believed it. She said she got it from her father and that it's been passed down from emperor to emperor since the beginning."

Rhea's head snapped up and some life returned to her eyes. "Did she now? Tell me this strange story, then, and I will tell you what I know."

Byleth told her, trying her best to recite it word for word. Rhea's eyes flashed and her fingers trembled, but she didn't interrupt. Byleth inhaled. "Was it an ordinary war? Did humans make those things?"

"It was no ordinary war." Rhea's voice was a whisper. "It was a massacre of my people. Nemesis was granted the same power you wield and he used it to slaughter my people until Zanado became the Red Canyon, wet with their blood. Only a few survived and they and their descendents were hunted until only a few of us were left to tell the tale and hide as best we could." She held up the sword. "The thing that crafted these was no human. Only a fiend would desecrate a corpse by turning its bone into a weapon."

Oh. Relics were...remains. Byleth retched and only her empty stomach kept the carpet clean. She had more blood on her hands than she could ever wash off, but there were depths even she had never sunk to. Desecrating a corpse was one of them. "The Sword of the Creator…"

"Is likewise, yes."

"Take it back then. Bury it with the honor it deserves."

"My dear, kind child." She put the sword aside to take Byleth's hand. "You must keep it. The only fitting tribute is using it to defeat those who orchestrated the massacre in the first place. Relics are used to keep another atrocity like that from ever occurring. In that way, what was intended as evil becomes a gift from the Goddess, just as the harvest is, even though humanity plays its vital role."

"And the rest of it? Crests and Agartha and all of it? And Sothis?"

"Sothis is the Goddess. You were chosen by her for great things. Whatever else, you must believe that. Don't let the rantings of a heretic trouble you." She drew back and Byleth could almost see her becoming the Archbishop again. "And now you know why the desecration of the Holy Tomb was an outrage demanding death. You mist know by now that Edelgard cannot or will not help you find the Agarthans. Hand her to the church for execution. Some crimes can only be cleansed by death."

Byleth turned away. Metodey had told the soldiers in the Tomb to take the bones. Even if she hadn't known where Relics came from, Edelgard had ordered or at least was willing to permit something terrible. She had been willing to kill an untold number of people to save her own. All the suffering she had endured could not erase that. And yet… And yet… She was also the person who had given up her crown and saved Bergliez, who had offered what help she could. "Attempt is not the same thing as commission. And even if it were, I choose mercy until I have no other option."

"But why?" You know what she—oh, I see." She laughed, not unkindly. "My dear child. I too know what it's like to love an emperor. It looks far sweeter than it tastes."

"Love? I don't—" Byleth swallowed her words. She didn't have a name for what she felt when she thought of Edelgard. The echo of her first infatuation, anger at being forced into battle, grief at seeing her suffering, a desire for companionship, fear of a knife in the back, most of all a wish that things could have been different. If it was love, it wasn't the kind that poets spoke of. She focused on what she could understand. "You were in love with Ionius? What happened?"

"I was ever so much younger than and near death. I had lost everything that mattered to me and a wonderful man saved me when I had given up on myself and humanity. He was handsome and brilliant and kind and little by little we let our walls down with each other. I even saved his life in return. I will always cherish that time of my life."

A sudden, terrible thought. "Edelgard isn't—"

Rhea looked as if she had tasted something terrible. "Don't be so melodramatic. As far as I'm aware, she's the daughter of minor nobility. Please, no more. Those memories are one of the few things that belong to me alone and will not help you in your duty. But do remember what I've said and don't let your heart be broken.."

"I won't."

"One last thing. Please, for the sake of the other survivors, don't share what I've told you. Not even with Claude. We were hunted almost to extinction once and unsated curiosity is a small price for survival."

"On one condition: let me clean your chambers."

The next two days were a slog of government minutia and endlessly revised plans for her new corps that kept Byleth from thinking of Edelgard or Relics almost entirely. Until she visited the training grounds.

A small crowd had gathered to watch two Imperial lancers spar. From the coins being passed back and forth, Byleth gathered that there was money being wagered on the outcome. The Blade Breakers had been like that, gambling on who the new recruit could beat and who he couldn't. Usually, it was a harmless bit of icebreaking and stress relief, but sometimes she and her father had had to separate any unhappy bettors determined to "motivate" the loser with their fists. She stood back, watching and waiting to intervene if things got out of hand.

She wasn't the only one. Edelgard stood in the shadow of one of the columns, almost blending into the stonework with her robes, Ashe at her side. She looked as if she hadn't slept well, her skin tinged with grey and her eyes shadowed. She looked like, well, a ghost come to watch the living make merry. A knot of pain formed in Byleth's gut despite her best efforts to push it down. She For all the crimes she had committed, seeing Edelgard diminished reminded her too much of those early days spent tending to her or that terrible flight from Enbarr. It was a thing that should not be that awakened a desire to hurt whatever had done this to her.

One of the lancers made a too-wide swing. His opponent sidestepped and countered in a fluid motion that ended with a blow to the head that echoed throughout the room. "Yield."

A murmur went up. A lot of people seemed to have lost a great deal of gold on the bout. One of them, red-faced and with the stench of alcohol clinging to him, lumbered toward the loser. "You little—you cost me two week's pay!"

"That's your fault isn't it, you Gloucester dog!" He huffed. "It wasn't enough to beat us? We have to bow and scrape to that puppet of a pretender?"

Byleth strode forward and every gaze in the room fixed on her. "Enough! Save your anger for Cornelia and the Dukedom. Since you're so concerned about your pay, you can go without it for another two weeks while you're confined to the barracks. Both of you. And if I catch either of you undermining the cohesion of this army, I will have you flogged. Do I make myself clear?"

The Adrestian soldier blanched. "If Emperor Edelgard were here—"

"I would have had you flogged and you would have counted yourself lucky not to be executed for treason." Edelgard stepped into the light. Despite her illness and abdication, she had managed to scrape together her air of authority. "Byleth is the emperor, and you will obey her with the same dedication that you gave me. If you think her a puppet and a pretender, then you insult me who gave the crown to her."

"Yes, Your Majesty." He looked at Byleth with a hangdog expression. "Sorry, Your Majesty."

Byleth motioned for one of the sergeants. "Take these two fools back to their barracks and notify their commander of their punishment. I suggest the rest of you disperse as well."

They did, until she Edelgard, and Ashe were the only people left at the training grounds. Byleth wanted nothing more than to slink against one of the columns. Her plan depended on unit cohesion, but the fractures between nations still ran deep, plastered over with the Crest of Flames and a coronation of dubious legitimacy. There were those under her nominal command who would jump at the chance to settle old scores and those who would always consider Edelgard the true emperor, waiting only for a word from her to plot a coup, even if it had no chance of success.

Ashe smiled as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "The way you handled those soldiers was pretty impressive, working together like that. A little frightening though."

"Thank you. I think," Byleth said. "I just wish the rest of the army was as united."

"If there's any hope of it, it lies in the you, Your Majesty. I meant what I said: you are the only worthy successor that I could imagine. If I could not have victory, at least I lost to you."

Byleth tensed. They sounded uncomfortably close to her words in the throne room. "I will do what I must do: put an end to this war."

"We're going after the Dukedom next?" The relief on Ashe's face was obvious. "It'll be good to go back, perhaps see Gaspard lands again. I haven't been back, well, since Ailell. I hope you give me a chance to put things right. Everything I've heard of Cornelia suggests that she's a cruel ruler. With the harvest and winter coming, the people are going to need all the help they can get."

Edelgard's pallor deepened almost imperceptibly. So Ferdinand's hypothesis was correct. Byleth had known it was, but couldn't escape the twinge of disappointment. Another reminder that the Edelgard who had dazzled her so wasn't the only one. "I can escort Edelgard back. Stop by the barracks and make sure those idiots sober up. And Ashe? Stop torturing yourself for trying to do right by the people you were responsible for."

"Someday, maybe." He bowed and left.

"I feel as if I should apologize for such gross insubordination." Edelgard leaned against the column. "You're more merciful than I was, but I suppose I knew that already."

"No sense losing soldiers if I don't have to. It's going to take every able body to defeat Cornelia, especially if were going to do it before the Empire goes bankrupt or the Kingdom starves to death."

"I see." Her voice was toneless. "May I assume that you've spent part of your young reign acquainting yourself with our financial and agricultural situation?"

"I have."

"You know what I did to remedy that situation? Or rather what I was going to do before you captured me? "

"I do."

The silence stretched on for several moments until Edelgard was left shifting uncomfortably. "What? No condemnation? No 'how dare I?' No orders for my execution?"

Byleth shrugged. "I would rather hear your explanation before I pass judgment."

"What is there to say?" she asked in that same toneless voice. "The devastation at Gronder caught me unprepared. Thousands would have died no matter what I chose. I chose those I had the greatest responsibility for. Just as Ashe did."

"You could have bought food from Dagda." A cold certainty settled over her. "But you chose to keep fighting over saving their lives. As long as the hope of victory remained, nothing else mattered."

Edelgard looked down. "I won't apologize. Turning back would have been an insult to Bernadetta and everyone else who gave their lives for my dream. If I couldn't defeat you, then I certainly had no hope of unseating Cornelia when the time came and her subjects would have wished for death anyway." She passed a hand over her face. "Dammit, why couldn't I have been stronger? Why did Claude abandon his famous pragmatism and keep fighting even before you returned? Why didn't I know just how compatible our goals were? A political marriage to him would've been a small price to pay for having power beyond those… things. And if I could have had you, there is nothing I would not have done."

She raised her head, and clenched her fists as a tremor seized her. "Well, Your Majesty? What is my sentence to be? Do you regret saving the emperor with a heart of ice?"

She regretted that things were not simpler. She wished that it was someone like Ashe who drew her like a puppet on a string. She wished that virtue and vice weren't so hopelessly intermingled in one person that she could hardly tell where one ended and the other began. And she wished more than anything that her own hands were clean. None of which helped now. "No remorse?"

"I've never seen the point in self-flagellating myself over things that I have no power to change. You must move forward, not wallow. What purpose would my remorse serve other than making a few sanctimonious priests feel better?"

She thought of the day her father had returned, the horrified look on his face when he had discovered how she had found and defeated the rebels in his absence. "Remorse inspires us to do better."

"Ah, but Your Majesty. I will never have a chance to do better." She closed her eyes. "I wish that I could free them from Cornelia and from the suffering they have endured. Does that satisfy you? I sincerely hope that you succeed where I failed and make her death the long and painful one that she deserves."

Wheels turned in Byleth's mind as fragments of thoughts floated in her mind like ghosts. Edelgard was hard and cold. She was charismatic, and her Crests gave her strength far beyond the ordinary. She would cut a wide swath through any enemy unfortunate enough to meet her blade. Enough, perhaps, to grant them a miracle. "You know that only a token force will be remaining here. I will need the best to help me retake Faerghus. Including all those who have served as your guard."

Edelgard cocked her head to one side. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I would be a fool to leave you here without supervision. Even if I trusted you, I have just been reminded that you still have some hold on the Imperial army. My army. My absence might give certain people the feeling that they could do something very foolish. A ruler with sense would lock you away until she returned, don't you agree?"

What little color Edelgard possessed vanished and Byleth almost felt guilty. They could both be cold and hard when the situation warranted. "She would," Edelgard said. "I suppose I should be grateful I'm only to be imprisoned. Rhea likely calls for my head night and day."

"That isn't your punishment. You just said you felt no remorse, and if you don't I doubt leaving you alone with your thoughts will make you." She took a deep breath. This was either the stupidest idea she had ever had or the most brilliant and there would be no way to know which until it was far too late. "You will join me on the Faerghus campaign as my personal adjutant. Take my letters, manage my schedule, be my shield and sword—-axe, rather. Because keeping you here is not an option."

Edelgard stood, eyes wide, mouth agape, and all of her former Imperial dignity forgotten. "I can't—you just said you couldn't trust me."

"All the better reason to keep an eye on you. You said you wanted to help the people of Faergus. I am giving you that chance. Unless it was all just talk to make yourself feel better?"

Edelgard glared at her and Byleth was almost happy about it. Anything was better than the ghost. "You are an exceptionally confusing and frustrating woman."

"So I've been told." She allowed herself a small smile. "I thought that I wanted was your advice. But I think now that what I wanted was your help. To see if there was a brighter path where we could walk together."

Her eyes went even wider if that were possible. So she did remember what she had said on the edge of death. Byleth pressed her advantage. "You're probably out of practice. I'm running Caspar, Ferdinand, and Claude through axe drills tomorrow at nine o'clock. I expect you to join us. She looked Edelgard up and down. The robes served well enough for letting her move through the monastery in relative peace but it wouldn't do now. Sothis help me. I don't want her like this. I want the woman who set the world on fire. "I'll see about getting you some more appropriate clothing. See you tomorrow."

She exited the training ground and almost collapsed. Appropriate clothing? What had possessed her to say something like that? She barely remembered to change out of her armor some days. Where was she going to find clothing fit for Edelgard by tomorrow?

Byleth groaned. She knew exactly where to find clothing, or rather she knew who would. Suddenly the idea of sneaking down to the canyon and sleeping for another few months seemed extremely appealing.

She found Hilda in the stable, staring rather skeptically at her wyvern. "Don't look at me like that. I thought I'd talked Ferdinand into cleaning the stables today, but he's wise to all my usual tricks. Doesn't the professor know that I'm too delicate to muck anything?" She turned and a brief flash of pink colored her cheeks. "Hi, Professor!"

Some things never changed. "You are the least delicate person I've ever met. If you were half as diligent doing your work as you are getting out of it, you would have been top of the class."

"Being top of the class is no fun." She put on her best pout. "You're a great and mighty emperor now. Can't you have pity on little old me?"

"I could. If you do me a favor, I'll make sure you never have to do another chore while you're here ever again."

Ooh, a favor! How can I be of service?"

Byleth shifted awkwardly. Now that the moment was upon her, she felt like she had marbles in her mouth. "I need clothing. For a noblewoman who is going to be doing a lot of fighting. I'm thinking red and black. Something warm. And I need it by tomorrow morning."

Hilda stared at her. "Clothing, for a noble, by tomorrow? I know a mage who supports herself by creating clothes, but this won't come cheap."

"I have money. Not enough to make a difference for the war, but I've been saving up for one of Zoltan's blades. That should be enough, right? I mean I already have the Sword of the Creator and—"

Hilda held up both her hands. "Stop it, Professor. Your babbling is really scary. Not like you at all. Unless…" Her expression turned sly. "This noblewoman wouldn't happen to be a little over five feet tall and her measurements easily accessible by looking at the records for past students?"

Heat spread across Byleth's face. "I refuse to dignify that with a response."

"Oh, poor professor. You should just court her like a normal person. I won't pretend to understand what you see in her, but it would be a lot less stressful if you just told her how you felt."

"No!" Pure panic shot through her heart. "I barely know myself how I feel. And I can't trust her. You're supposed to be able to show things to the person you love that you would never be able to show anyone else. She would… I don't know what she would do." She straightened and forced her hands to her sides. "And anyway my job is to unite Fódlan. Courting her is the most divisive thing I can imagine."

"You wouldn't be the first ruler with a secret lover. Anything has to be better than watching you flail around. Yes, just like that." She smiled, and it was warmer than her usual. "I'll pay for the clothing and I'll pick something really nice. Favor for a friend."

"Thank you, Hilda," Byleth said and meant it.

Her dreams were filled with visions of clashing swords and axes when she slept at all, but Byleth made her way to the Golden Dear classroom at fifteen minutes til nine, exactly as she had as a professor. Claude, Ferdinand, and Caspar sat in their usual seats. "Edelgard will be joining us today in preparation for our Faerghus campaign. If you have any objections, let's get them out of the way now."

Ferdinand and Caspar were too shocked to say anything, and even Claude raised his eyebrows. "I'm all for risky schemes, but even I have to admit that giving the person who was trying to kill us a few months ago a weapon is pretty daring. Are you sure about this, Teach?"

"I'm not sure about anything anymore. But she wants if Cornelia and Thales dead, and that means that she's too powerful a resource to pass up." She closed her eyes and the smell of phantom smoke invaded her nostrils. "Fighting in this war isn't a reward for good boys and girls."

"Teach." He shook his head and swallowed whatever he was about to say but the softness in his eyes cut her to the quick. "I trust you."

Ferdinand looked between them, brows knit together. "I do not know what is being left unsaid, but if you trust her to follow you even knowing what you know, then I defer to your judgment as well."

"Er, what he said. My father is alive because of what the two of you did. Let's see what she can do without any fancy tricks."

Minutes passed, but there was no sign of Edelgard. Byleth's gaze alternated between the door and the small water clock on her desk. If Edelgard didn't come, then she would have no choice but to imprison her, and for far longer than the campaign. She would never be able to afford letting her predecessor out of her sight. Come to me. I don't know how I feel about you or how I should feel, but I want you here.

The chapel bell pealed. One. Two. Three. Four. Byleth bowed her head. She had tried, tried so hard to bring Edelgard onto her path, to walk with her. It seemed she had been chasing a shadow all this time. The woman she had talked to for hours was no more real than that thing in a mask that had desecrated the Holy Tomb. Five. Six. She would do what had to be done as promised.

The door opened and Edelgard stepped through.

She was... the only word Byleth could summon was exquisite. The black of her jacket and trousers was a stark contrast to her white hair and the pallor of her skin. Her blouse was a splash of red that forced the eye towards it, and she wore a red half cape pinned to her shoulders by silver eagles. She held an axe in one gloved hand as if it were a child's toy. Byleth's mouth went dry. She had forgotten how much power Edelgard had, not in her crown or in her Crests, but simply in the way she moved and was. She was like something from the time before Sothis, a ruling goddess of war who did not demand fealty because she did not have to.

Byleth stood rooted to the spot. She had been an idiot. This was no ghost of a infatuation, but something real and present. She wanted to run her fingers over the fine wool and feel the heat beneath, wanted to stroke her hair. To kiss her. It didn't matter in that moment how much blood was on either of their hands. She simply wanted, just as she had all those years ago. Maybe she had never stopped, but she had been too blinded by duty to see it. And now Edelgard, ruthless almost conquer, would be her companion night and day. Idiot.

"Your Majesty."

"Edelgard." It was a miracle that her voice sounded like human speech. "Shall we begin?"