Chapter 44

Day 16 of the Pegasus Moon, Year 1171 (Fódlan Calendar)

Khalid's breath was labored as he stopped for a few seconds to stretch his legs, though his wheezing was not quite as loud as that of James and Abbas ahead. They were nearing the top of the long trail up a steep ridge in a place called Kewhha-ye Rangin in the Elamite tongue, better known as the Painted Hills to most people. The famous landmark was in northeastern Elam, not far from the border with Shomal. All three boys were visiting for the first time. James was scheduled to go study in Meteora within the next month, so it would be one of their last activities together as a family. Queen Tiana agreed to stay behind so the boys could bond with their father. Shahid originally claimed that he would join them, but he found a last-minute excuse to stay at his post in the Tabarzin.

The vivid bands of red, yellow, and even blue terrain were striking, but it was difficult to keep up with their father's pace. The heat and lack of shade served as additional detriments. Abbas called out, "Can we slow down? We're all tired."

Their father smiled. "This is our only chance for exercise today, Abbas. This is an excellent opportunity to impress me with a demonstration of your endurance."

Abbas groaned and waited for Khalid to catch up. He asked his little brother as graciously as possible, "Can you tell him to slow down or give us a break? He might actually listen to you." As terrible as Abbas could be, he was too much of a coward to act out of line in front of their father.

Whether out of generosity to Abbas or his own desire for relief, Khalid yelled to his father, "We're all really hungry. I brought some nuts with me. Can we stop long enough for a snack?"

"Don't worry about that, Khalid. Dinner is already waiting for us at the top."

"You aren't just saying that so we'll stop complaining, are you?" Khalid asked.

The king laughed as he shook his head. "No, but the only evidence I can provide for now is my word. I hope you'll learn to trust that."

After the failure of his brothers, James attempted, "But we're walking so fast that we can't even take the time to appreciate the view…"

"Ah! That's the best argument I've heard so far, but we're almost there. The view at the top will be even better, so the sooner we get there, the longer we'll get to enjoy it before sunset!"

The three brothers looked at each other and mutually agreed it was time to give up. Khalid had saved just enough energy to jump ahead of them and reach the top of the ridge first. As soon as he did, he finally understood his father's claim. The peak was the highest in the range, and the waves of majestic hues stretched to the horizon in every direction. His father put a hand on his shoulder as he beheld the scene in awe.

When Abbas reached the top, he squinted at a tent farther along the flat ridge where two unknown men sat beside a small fire. The smell of food was discernible even at that distance. Abbas pointed in disgust and complained, "Wait… that's going to be our meal? I thought you were having something brought in from the palace!"

"Are you telling me you'd rather have cold food than hot food?" Faruq asked drolly. "I spotted a campfire not far from us last night after you all fell asleep. I greeted them, and when they told me where they were headed next, I asked if they'd be willing to host us for tonight."

"Do they know who we are?" Khalid asked.

"I don't think so, no. Most members of the desert tribes are polite to any travelers, not just royalty."

James eyed them suspiciously. "These nomads are clearly from Saba. What are they doing here?"

"The Kewhha-ye Rangin is a sacred pilgrimage site. I don't think the nomads worry that much about borders, James. Maybe we shouldn't, either."

Despite the hesitation, no one ultimately turned down the much-needed food, which everyone agreed was delicious. One of their hosts was a graying man, while the other was his younger cousin. The princes struggled to understand their dialect, so the king ultimately did most of the translating. The two men did not have much to say, seemingly knowing little of the world beyond their desert, but they were attentive to everything their guests shared. The identity of the royal family was never broached.

While the camp was readied for sleeping, Khalid's family was left alone to watch the sky darken and the stars reveal themselves. The colors of the hills took on new tones as the moon supplanted the sun.

"We'll climb back down to our previous camp first thing in the morning. Can we agree this wasn't a waste of time, though?" the king asked.

The three sons all admitted that it was a successful excursion. Abbas then eyed Khalid smugly and tested, "I bet Fódlan doesn't have anything like this, does it, father? Makes sense why the queen would want to leave."

"No, it has nothing quite like this," Faruq said. Before Abbas could sneer too brightly, however, their father continued, "But it has plenty of other wonders that you'll never find here. Taller mountains, more diverse fauna, greater lakes and rivers… every land you'll ever visit will always have something special to offer."

"So we have nothing in common?" Abbas asked.

"I never said that. Take this night sky, for example. It's the exact same in Fódlan. The same moon, the same stars… many people across those mountains are gazing at this same sight as we speak. You can either chose to look at the ground that they can't see or share the sky with everyone else."

"You're bound to run headlong into something if you face the dirt," Khalid observed.

Abbas contended, "And you'll trip over something else if you just stare at the sky."

"Are you two taking this too literally or trying to make it profounder than it is?" James muttered.

"That might depend on whom you ask," their father laughed as he pulled his sons into an embrace. "Listen closely… there's going to come a day when the three of you will no longer be living under the same roof, but you'll always sleep under the same sky. When that day comes, you'll have to decide whether you'll focus on your differences or remember your similarities. I know it already isn't easy, and I won't be able to choose for you. But it's my prayer every night that you'll make the right choice when that time comes."

Khalid closed his eyes as they grew weary, the warmth of the hug offsetting the chill in the air. The gentle breeze rustling the blankets and the flaps of the tent offered a soothing lullaby. And in that calm, Khalid could pretend for just a moment that they were a normal family free of conflict. Things would be different in the morning, but just as the purity of a father's embrace would not last forever, perhaps the tribulation between the brothers would one day pass, too. Khalid could at least hope.

A Pair of Tomorrows- Day 25 of the Garland Moon, Year 1187 (Fódlan Calendar)

Khalid was granted entrance into the royal chambers after being asked to wait several minutes. He found his father resting in his wheelchair in the shade of the sovereign's liwan. The king was motionlessly staring out at chirping birds in a tree outside, but he smiled weakly when he saw his son. He hardly resembled the father from Khalid's memories.

"It looks like you found yourself a real comfy spot while the rest of us were busy with work," Khalid joked, hiding his despair at the king's appearance.

"Sit with me, Khalid," Faruq beckoned. When his son followed the request, he continued, "Your mother and I didn't want word getting out too early, but I trust you understand why I've called for tonight's festivities. It will be easier for us both if I don't have to explain it."

"You plan to nominate James as your heir. Juliana, Soraya, and Dizhwar will all accept your choice, and that will be the end of it," Khalid reasoned with an even tone.

His father nodded. "Yes… I suppose it will be. But… do you think I'm angry with you, Khalid?"

"Probably a little," Khalid admitted.

"I understand why you would think that, but it is not so. Not anymore. I will admit I was angry when our… disagreement happened back in Metanoiapolis, but that was frustration more than anything. It hurt watching you do something that would irreparably damage your future. It seemed like folly."

After readjusting his seating position, he continued, "But… I've had time to think, and you're right that I was a hypocrite. People thought I was a fool, too, when I brought your mother here. In truth, neither of us were fools. We both knew the consequences of our choices, and we both held to our convictions anyways. So no, I'm not angry. I'm only disappointed. Disappointed that we couldn't see eye to eye, and disappointed that I couldn't do better for you. Almyra has changed so much during my lifetime, but perhaps hoping this land would fully accept you was one step too far for now. It's not fair that you will never fully reap the rewards, but with some work, I have no doubt that you can help bring lasting peace with Fódlan. And in time, perhaps our people will be ready for a king like you."

"Do you really think James is going to make that a priority?" Khalid asked doubtfully.

"James shares his foremost priority with me- restoring peace in Almyra. As for what the two of you can do together, you're better off asking him. I won't be here to help you."

Khalid sighed. "I'm not angry with you, either, you know. I've found myself inching towards a lot of the same conclusions. It's just hard to accept after working so hard for that goal."

Faruq frowned. "Tell me, Khalid… have you fought this war on behalf of your innocence, or to secure your spot on the throne? If it has been the later, I'm sorry to say that you're the only one who saw it that way."

"That's a tough question to simplify into a 'this' or 'that.' It's true that I've pictured myself making it there, but I've focused on greater goals than just that. Maybe things would be different if I fought specifically for the throne harder. I realized too late that James was playing the game with that level of intensity. Heck, I barely noticed he had even sat down and made his move until my time was up. To be honest, though… I'm not sure how many decisions I'd change if I could go back. I'd prevent the disasters at Sous River and the Pinnacula, obviously, but I don't think those significantly affected the outcome. The real issue is that I started this game with only half the pieces James did. I've run through a lot of scenarios in my head, and almost all of them that don't involve James dying or Ghalib confessing back at Merv end right here."

"I heard James was there to greet the six lords today while you were nowhere to be seen. Did you consider the scenario of you trying harder to make friends, or did you use your inability to hold your tongue as a constraint in your analysis?" Faruq asked pointedly.

Khalid chuckled, happy to see that his father's mind was in much better shape than his body. "I've been communicating with the two or three lords that don't completely shun me, but throwing myself into that full hostile crowd was never going to change anything. You know that." He then glanced around. "Where is James, anyways? Have you told him the good news yet?"

"Yes… not long before you arrived. I wanted to talk with you alone, so he went to the bathhouse while waiting for us to finish. He wants to speak with you in private, too. I have one request before you go, though."

"Of course. What is it?"

"James will remain here in Elam during the campaign in case I pass in your absence. That means I leave the responsibility of leading the operation in your hands. I trust your judgment, but I only ask one thing in return- bring Abbas back home alive."

"He won't make that easy on me, father," Khalid said as his body tensed.

"I know… I know," the king conceded. "And I know it may be tempting to imagine a world where you don't have to deal with him again. But he's your brother, and he's my son. Please set those negative feelings aside. There are times to recognize them, but this is not it."

Khalid smiled sadly. "You didn't even have to ask. I don't want Abbas dead, especially not before each of us gets the chance to greet him with a stern lecture. He won't get off that easy. You have my solemn word, father."

King Faruq embraced his son's hand. "Thank you, Khalid. When you're done talking with James, I want the two of you to spend the remaining time before the feast with me. We won't talk at all about the war or the succession. If I suddenly die overnight, I don't want your last memory of me to be that conversation." Khalid turned to leave, but his father added at the last moment, "And Khalid… I'm sorry. None of this changes how you or my mother feel about you."

Khalid nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, too."

The prince entered the small private bathhouse nearby per his father's instructions. A shallow pool occupied most of the brightly lit octagonal room. James sat on the edge with his feet dipped in the water after removing his footwear and rolling up his clothing. He was scratching out several lines of writing on some parchment on his lap.

"Practicing for a speech?" Khalid asked as he slipped beside his brother.

"Yes, actually. I hate it. If this was all being king involved, I'd happily hand the responsibility over to you," James said as he tossed his address on the other side. He then asked, "So… how was it with our father?"

"Oh, you know… nothing unexpected. His reasoning was obvious, and I didn't launch a diatribe against either of you, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I know that you're smarter than that. Though… I am a bit worried about how you are truly handling it. If you're willing to be open with me, I promise that anything you say won't leave this room."

Khalid shrugged. "I'm still sorting through my thoughts. For one, I guess I'm surprised. Not because of father's decision, but because of how fast you stormed onto the scene. Do you even want to be king? Not to say you were ever against the idea in principle, but growing up, I never got the impression it mattered that much to you."

James pondered this before answering, "You're right. Prioritizing the crown seemed like a losing effort to me back then because I never thought I'd have a realistic shot at it. Father clearly favored you, while Shahid and Abbas were older and had bigger personalities. A lot has obviously changed since then. I just want what's best for our people, Khalid. I know that sounds prosaic, but it's true. And if father thinks I'm the best answer, then yes, this is what I want. So… what about you? I always assumed you did, but you weren't as openly vocal about it as our brothers."

Khalid nodded. "I did, but the crown was always primarily an avenue to achieve my dreams, not the dream itself. There are other ways forward. When you eventually succeed our father… what kind of role do you see for me in your government?"

"That's… a difficult question. There are still some outstanding issues to be resolved before we can have that discussion."

"In other words, you can't do anything for me if we don't get a confession from Darius."

James bit his lip. "I wouldn't go that far, but not having complete answers obviously affects what is reasonably possible. People aren't going to listen to you if they're still convinced you attempted regicide, and they won't treat me much better if it looks like I'm sheltering you."

"Alright. Let's say we get that coveted confession from Darius. What then for me? Would I be your choice for mirza? And would I be allowed to negotiate with Fódlan?"

"I'd probably select you for mirza, yes, assuming there wasn't too much pushback. And I want the raids on the Throat ended as badly as you do. They've accomplished nothing other than spilling blood and letting our uncle pretend to be more important than he actually was. But, to answer your question… I'm not sure our people are ready for full dialogue with Fódlan yet. Maybe a few years of peace will finally convince the alarmists that the 'western menace' doesn't actually want to invade us, but I can't have you unilaterally making deals with Fódlan without Istakhr's support."

"You could have saved your breath and just said you have no role for me," Khalid told him incisively. A few years was bad enough, but Khalid suspected his brother was just palliating the truth. If genuine active effort was not taken, it would more likely take a few generations.

James sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's too early for me to offer bolder promises in good faith to you or anyone else. I'm not trying to push you out, Khalid. What I want and what we need is not always the same thing. I want you to have an important role because, well… you were always someone I looked up to. That probably sounds ridiculous given how badly I treated you at times, but I mean it. I didn't envy your life, but the way you used your wits and tenacity to survive it was something I wished I could replicate. You're the kind of person I want on my side, and not just because you're my brother."

"I don't think it's ridiculous that you respect me… but do you trust me? Speaking personally, I can name several people that met the first qualification but utterly failed on the second."

James nodded understandingly. "I'm sure father already told you that I can't go on the campaign, but I plan to send Theodora with you as my representative. She's my last retainer, and I'm putting her life in your hands. That's the best demonstration of trust I can give you right now. Is it enough to quell your worries?"

It was not enough, actually, but Khalid answered diplomatically, "It's a worthy offer. In that case, I'll add Theodora to the list of people I promise to bring back alive."

"The list?" James repeated quizzically.

"Father made me swear to bring Abbas home."

"Well… Abbas won't make that easy for you."

"Ha! Exactly what I said. But… I have to try." Khalid paused as he rubbed his neck. "You want to know what's truly ridiculous? Part of me just refuses to give up on Abbas. Everyone assumes I'd do the deed without much hesitation, which seems reasonable after everything he's done. And yet… I still cling onto a thread of some childlike idealism that tells me it's never too late. It tells me that if I were willing to kill my own brother, what would I not be willing to do? I don't think any of my friends, living or dead, would like who I am if I severed that thread."

James reflected in silence for a few moments. He then mused, "I think you just described a mutual feeling that I've never even expressed to myself. This war has made me do horrible things that I never thought I was capable of. People can sing my praises for those forged letters, but it doesn't take the blood of the dead off my hands. Uncle Ghalib was bad enough, but… to kill our own brother... it's a line I don't want either of us to cross. So… bring him home. And bring yourself home, too."

"I will. And I'm bringing back Darius's confession while I'm at it. That should make everything less complicated for everyone."

James warned, "It would. But as much as we all want closure… be careful about pushing Darius too hard for it."

Khalid's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"It could make a bad situation even worse. Think about it. Ghalib refused to confess even when his death was imminent. If Darius is equally adamant that you're truly responsible when you keep pressing him, there's a risk that even more soldiers under your command will start to believe him. Rumors will spread when the army returns home, and that spread risks developing into a wildfire. I wouldn't count on our ailing father to put the fire out this time."

"Ghalib knew that Darius was going to escape at Merv, so there was still hope. Confessing there would have destroyed their cause altogether. If Darius loses here, though, it's as good as over. Other than pride, there won't be any reason to continue the hoax."

James sighed. "Maybe you're right, and it's your call in the end. But… just remember my warning."

"I will; I promise. And you be careful, too."

"Me?" James said with a confused snort. "You're the one heading into battle. I'll try not to eat any suspect meats or anything like that while you're gone."

"You joke, but will our government ever be more vulnerable than while the army is away and the crown is potentially being handed off? We've had almost as many coups as kings, and there are plenty of bad actors out there even today. Maybe a traitor thinks Abbas will be offered the crown if you died. Or maybe someone on Soraya's council is angry that Juliana will become queen instead of Lydia and act against one of you two. I'm just asking that you take it seriously. You won't even have your retainer."

"You're right, you're right. We'll still have the Shakiriyya for protection, but I'll make sure Juliana and I are both cautious," James conceded.

"Then I think that settles everything I wanted to hear," Khalid said as he stood up and dried off his feet. "Father wants us to stay with him until it's time for the announcement. Looks like you already got changed, so I'm guessing you expected that."

"Same as you, Khalid," James said with a smile as his brother helped him up.

As their father hoped, little was said worth repeating during the time spent together as a family. Tiana soon came to join them, and the four wasted the hours sharing favorite memories. These included both the iconic stories that inevitably came up during every family reunion as well as new ones. Khalid still had plenty of untold mishaps from his Golden Deer days to introduce.

By the time they wheeled King Faruq outside for the festivities, Khalid was almost at peace with everything that had transpired. When Ariella briefly stopped by to test his food, however, he was pained upon being reminded of his retainers. Not only had he let them all down, but what future awaited Dimitri and Marianne under James's government? James did not seem interested in meaningful relations with Fódlan, and a fickle public might turn against them once their contributions to the war were a thing of the past.

When the king finally made the announcement, the applause started out soft before swelling into thunderous cheers. Some of them were genuinely excited about James, others were relieved that it was not Khalid, and others were just following the crowd. It was impossible to determine the percentage composition of each group, however.

Sardar Soraya eventually stood up, which caused the crowd to quiet. "I support the nomination of Prince James," she said, prompting more ovation.

"As do I," Dizhwar added.

Juliana was the last to stand. She agreed, "Yes… Prince James must be king."

The applause grew in volume again until James lifted a hand as a request for their attention. He then told the crowd, "I will not stand here and verbalize a drawn-out speech about what I will do as king. His Majesty still lives, and I have faith that his future holds many more years ahead than he would have us believe. In the meantime, however, I will say just this- thank you all for your confidence in me. I grew up in the shadow of my brothers, but you have confirmed my stance that volume of action will always supersede volume of words. I no longer fear what the future holds because I know the greatest people in the world, our people, are ready to support me. So, I thank you all! I promise that I will meet each challenge according to the honorable legacy passed on by our ancestors, as well as the teachings given to me by my father. I give to you no less than my very life."

The speech was nothing spectacular, but it seemed to win over any remaining doubters. The future king was not only a loyal full Almyran, but he had the ability to speak and dish out compliments. That was good enough.

Khalid could just spot his retainers in the distance. They did not cheer for James enthusiastically, but they appeared to be offering enough support for the sake of politeness. Not surprisingly, though, they made their exit from the festivities at the soonest opportunity. Khalid was stuck somewhat longer when the nobles individually came to speak with the royal family, but he had the same idea just as soon as official visits were over.

"Leaving so soon?" his mother asked.

"I… umm…"

Tiana gently put a hand on each of his shoulders and smiled sadly. There was no need to verbalize lamentations or apologies, so she only told him, "Get some rest, Khalid. And don't let this interfere with your campaign. You are just as wise and strong as you were before. I'll be here to support you in whatever way you need. I'm done trying to tell you what that is, because I know you'll figure it out on your own."

Khalid calmed his damp eyes as he replied, "Thank you… for now, just take care of father for me, would you?"

The spurned prince was prepared to be greeted by his retainers when he entered his sitting room, but he was surprised to see Nousha accompanying them. No games or other hobbies were set out, so they had presumably been discussing the events of that evening right up until the moment of his arrival.

"… Hey," Ariella tried as everyone stared at him looking rather morose.

"Hey…" Khalid replied slowly. "You all look like you just found out that I have ten minutes left to live."

"Is that how badly you're taking it?" Nousha asked.

Khalid snorted. "If people see me as less of a threat to ever take the throne, my projected lifespan might be seeing some improvement. Honestly, I'm getting exhausted talking about it. I'll feel better not answering the question."

"What do you think you'll do… once the war is over, that is?" Dimitri asked. "Or is that too similar of a question?"

Khalid shrugged. "James danced around the issue, but it's obvious that he won't give me power to do much of anything unless we can get a confession out of Darius. And even if we do… I don't know what's the best place for me. Queen Byleth might be interested in carving out a role for me, but she'll probably run into a similar problem as James. Even if she wants to, the people of Leicester won't be overjoyed to see me again after I bailed on them." After a beat, he grimaced uncharacteristically as he muttered, "I'm a part of two worlds, but I've found a home in neither."

Marianne frowned. "I know you've been treated badly here, but were we so unkind to you in Fódlan?"

"For the most part no, but only because I hid half of my identity. It's not as pleasant of an alternative as you might assume." Khalid turned to Dimitri and told him, "I'm sorry I've put you through a similar predicament."

Nousha's eyebrows rose. "What do you mea-."

"You know, I think we should listen to Khalid's recommendation and find a new subject to discuss," Ariella said quickly and loudly. Khalid blessed his fortune to have a retainer ready to cover her lord's mistake despite not knowing the full truth herself.

"Alright. We can instead talk about how ridiculous that outfit looks on you, Khalid," Nousha suggested.

Marianne was taken aback before realizing that Khalid was not at all offended. After surveying his colorful kaftan, Khalid told his old friend, "Hey, don't look at me, Nousha. Ariella picked this out for me."

"Is it really that terrible? No one else said anything bad about it," an affronted Ella inquired. "It was the only outfit I bought for him while he was gone! The seller at the bazaar only had one left in stock. I took that as validation of my taste."

"Only one left, or only one sown before the designer realized it was a terrible mistake?" Nousha proffered.

"Or only one sown because the materials were too valuable to ever replicate it? Or maybe it took years of dedicated work to produce even just this one," Ariella countered.

Nousha laughed. "I'm willing to forgive your taste since you probably weren't exposed to a variety of styles in the Mikdash, but I can't ignore your refusal to accept being wrong."

"I must disagree on both accounts, general," Dimitri interjected. "Ariella has spent half her life here, so any lack of taste can't be justified. Not that I agree with your allegation, of course. On the second account, I consider Ariella's stubbornness to be a credit to her. I would never have learned how to cook without such a persistent teacher. Look at it as a willingness to consider all possibilities rather than a refusal to accept defeat."

"I think the outfit is very nice," Marianne added.

Nousha smirked wryly. "I should have known I'd be up against all four of you. Herd mentality is a potent drug."

Khalid relaxed, leaned back, and crossed his feet. "These three have done the same thing to me before, too, but I guess you can only blame yourself for not signing up as my retainer when you had the chance."

Nousha could have correctly pointed out that she was destined to be the retainer of the future king, now confirmed to be James instead of Khalid, but she instead only replied, "Alright. Unlike you people, I actually know when to accept defeat."

The silly arguments continued until Ariella pulled out the shatranj board, eager to try out new strategies she had been practicing. Dimitri and Marianne were content to watch and converse, while Nousha had a jolly time giving Khalid grief every time he lost a piece.

The initial assumption was that Nousha would be the first to leave, but she seemed obstinately unwilling to retire before the retainers. When the gathering lasted past midnight, Dimitri, Ariella, and Marianne eventually concluded that she was waiting to talk with Khalid in private and turned in for the night. Nousha stood up alongside them, but instead of following, she made her way to a shelf and pulled out a fragile tome. She smiled as she flipped through the pages of preserved flowers.

"I thought I recognized this. I'm surprised you still have it," she said softly.

Khalid jumped up and crossed his arms as he joined her. "Ha! How could I dispose of it when you might suddenly quiz me again? I promise I've got it memorized now, but you're free to test my knowledge if you're still suspicious."

"No, you've already had a long day." Nousha closed the book, looked away, and muttered after a pause, "I'm sorry, Khalid."

"Yeah, I've heard that a lot today."

Nousha shook her head. "No, I'm not talking about the announcement. I'm sorry for being an ass to you for all these years. I said before that our lives went separate ways because of circumstances, but that's only half the story. The truth is… I was jealous of you."

Khalid finished, "Because your father treated me the way you wanted to be treated?"

Nousha smiled grimly. "So, I guess you always knew, huh?"

"I wouldn't say 'always', but it didn't take too long to figure it out."

"I know it wasn't fair to blame you. I was trying to cut myself off from those negative emotions by cutting you out of my life, but I was wrong. I was submitting to the emotions, not severing them." Nousha looked Khalid in the eyes unusually sheepishly. "So… do you forgive me? You told me before that you were willing to give our friendship another chance. Did you mean it?"

"Of course, Nousha. It's all in the past. And I'm sorry I didn't try to harder to reach out to you."

Nousha nodded. "Thanks… you're a better person than I am. And with that settled, the polite thing now would be to let you sleep." She walked to the door, turned around, and added, "Once we leave, I might not see you much until we get to the citadel. But I think your plan is going to work, Khalid. Darius isn't stupid, and he'll have some surprises for you, too. Don't doubt yourself when it happens. Pull yourself back up, and finish what you've started. You've got everything you need to win. Those obsolete lords can say whatever nonsense they want, but you have the loyalty of the people who actually know you… myself included."

"I'm glad to hear it." Khalid stretched out his arms. "… Farewell hug?"

Nousha grinned as she turned away and held up a hand dismissively. "I thought we agreed that was a one-time event, Khalid! Let's not ruin a good moment."

As Nousha's footsteps sounded down the stairs, Khalid walked to the window and took a deep breath of fresh air.

Yes… everything was going to be alright. Confession or no confession, he would find his place in the world. He was not alone. In Almyra, Fódlan, and even Brigid, he could find friends who had his best interests at heart. Bemoaning the opinions of the rest would accomplish nothing.

But before any of that would even matter, Darius had to be defeated. Khalid was ready for the game to be over.