"...Yes." Seiros' whispered. "Yes."

"You will?" Wilhelm's eyes shone with delight. "Truly?"

"I'll marry you." Seiros breathed out. The adrenaline of the moment was overwhelming. She had thought to say no. To let him down gently. Escape off into the night, and let history unfold. It would have been the right thing to do. The hard decision that needed to be made.

But in that moment, Seiros' thoughts lingered. On the feeling of Wilhelm's skin against hers. Of nights that would be spent alone and apart. Of her child, their child, never being able to call him father.

Her strength failed her. Seiros gave into the temptation of happiness. "I will be your wife." Uttering those words, a storm of euphoria swept through her, burning away all resistance.

"And I your husband." Wilhelm wrapped his arms back around her shoulders. Seiros hummed, and pulled them both down onto the bed. "Ever dutiful, always your humble servant."

"Ahh." she basked in the attention her new hus—should she wait for the wedding to call him husband?

…No. No, she liked the sound of it now. Besides, she was archbishop. If she declared them married in the eyes of the goddess, it was so. "I expect to be lavished like this often, husband."

"As you wish—!" Wilhelm bit out, his voice cutting out as she ran her tongue over a particular area. "Seiros, while I appreciate the—" His hand clamped over his mouth to hide a yelp. "—It really would be a problem if someone were to hear us. We have to stay quiet."

"Hmm." She cocked her head and batted her eyelashes. "Make me."

Later, Seiros rested her head on Wilhelm's shoulder, staring through the window to the stars above. Wilhelm had moved on from running his fingers over her ears, and now held her stomach, firmly but gently.

"...Are you sure you don't want to ask how I plan to deal with King Gronder tomorrow?" He asked, as he glanced up at the moon. "Or today, as the case may be."

"No." Seiros's hand found his. "I do remember being very concerned about it, but," Their fingers wrapped together, intertwined as they ran across her stomach. "By the goddess, I just can't seem to care now."

Wilhelm laughed. He shifted his weight, but not enough to force Seiros to. "Do you think it will be a boy or a girl?"

Seiros hummed. It was a simple question. Easier than dwelling on the child's fate if they were Nabataen or not. "Both, I think."

"Both? As in…twins?"

"No, just one." She rolled her head to look up at him. "I meant that we shall keep trying until we have both."

Wilhelm closed the distance and kissed Seiros, which she happily returned. "As you wish, I shall make so."

It felt so indulgent. To give in to her desire, to be here with Wilhelm. A part of her still screamed against it, railed that her fleeting, temporary happiness was not worth it. The dead still demanded vengeance. Delaying Nemesis' slaughter for a frivolous relationship with a human was unacceptable. Reprehensible.

But Seiros pushed those concerns aside. Wilhelm was correct. They may not have a plan, or any chance of facing Nemesis' horde on the open field of battle, but they had come from nothing. They had built a nation together out of that same nothing. They would find a way forward.

Perhaps it wasn't her falling into weakness, being consumed by her immediate desires, but the strength to believe in herself. In Wilhelm. In both of them, together.

Overhead, Sirius still shone, and Seiros pulled her husband closer. Truly, this was a sign from the goddess.

"...And so, they lived happily ever after." Seiros finished, closing the well-worn story book shut. The children of the orphanage clapped and cheered, smiles on their faces. Lycaon was as always in the front of the crowd, happily laughing along with everyone. Procyon sat on her knee, staring up in wonder. Her daughter's pale green eyes and rich brown hair matched her brother's.

"Another! Another!" The children called.

The headmistress put an end to that. "Goddess's sake you all! Let her majesty rest! You all still have to clean up your toys in the field!"

There were grumblings. "Listen to your matron, children. She tells me which children behave well." She gave a loud, obvious wink. "And well behaved children get sweets next time."

That sent them all scampering, rushing past each other and the headmistress' calls of "No pushing!" All the children, except Procyon, who was struggling to dismount from Seiros' knee, and Lycaon, who remained sitting.

"My darling, did you not play with the other children? With the balls and ropes?" She asked. He nodded. "Then you should help them clean up."

The boy paused, before shaking his head. "Don't wanna." He said happily. "I'm the prince, I don't have to."

Seiros gave a small frown. Three years old, and already learning the wrong lessons. That would have to be stamped out… "Really? Princess Procyon seems more than happy to help." She lifted her daughter off her knee, and held her hands as she wobbled. "Are you going to let her do more work than the prince?"

"Clean up! Clean up!" Procyon babbled happily, stumbling towards the field and a stray ball.

Lycaon's mood turned sour, and he raced past his sister into the fields. Seiros glanced at the headmistress, and they shared a chortle.

"Lady Rhea?" She looked back to see a boy, perhaps ten years old. He was nervous, and holding something behind his back.

"Yes, child?"

The boy swallowed. "T-this is for you!" He reached his hands out, and presented her with a small tart, made of apples and bread.

"Oh, child." Seiros smiled as she accepted the gift, and took a bite. "It's delicious. Thank you…"

"Franz!" The boy answered her prompt. "T-thank you for coming back to us!"

"Thank you Franz. I always will." Seiros laughed.

The boy shifted his weight, half beaming with praise, half nerves. "W-we were all worried. When you got married, and you had your babies, we thought you'd f-forget all about us. You don't preach in the city much anymore, and…"

Seiros laughed gently, and placed her hand on the boy's shoulder. "Love has no limits, my child." In the distance, Lycaon and Procyon shouted in delight amongst their fellow human children. "It can overcome any obstacle."

"Gronder continues to deteriorate." Count Vestra announced. Wilhelm, Seiros and her brethren, plus a few other nobles were all assembled in a quiet, windowless room in the palace. "We've managed to turn House Varley, but the civil war is raging on with no end in sight. Trade is crippled in the region, and Almyran merchants who manage to make it through are charging exorbitant fees. More importantly, with all the men of Gronder fighting, the wheat fields are going untended. The price of grain is soaring, and we could very easily be looking at a famine spilling into our lands."

"Can we not move the army in? Restore order and take control of things?" Macuil asked. "Surely after four years of this downward slope, we would be greeted as heroes."

Count Vestra's expression didn't change. "With Lamine and Charon still at our northern border, and Gloucester and Reigan making raids across the Airmid weekly, that would be…" He subtly ran his tongue over his lips. "Inadvisable."

"...What of the death toll?" Wilhelm asked. Under the table, his hand had found Seiros'. She squeezed his fingers.

Count Vestra shifted in his chair, and glanced down at his papers. "Tens of thousands. Perhaps a hundred now."

"So quickly? Just a few months ago…" Indech trailed off.

"King Ludwig's assassination sent the whole mess into free-fall." Count Vestra replied. "With no one left to bind them together, and their usual targets under our banner, the former men of Gronder turned their armies inward." His two thumbs made a shrugging motion together. "We've taken in as many refugees as we can, but we only have so many soldiers available to police our vassel's…" The count's tongue clicked. "...Intake process."

"I will go, at once." Cichol said to that. "Order must be restored. These brutes will learn our protection requires something of them."

Wilhelm's hand squeezed hers before he spoke. "Let us do what we can now. Lord Aegir." The man turned. "Go with Lord Cichol, and see if you can convince any more of their houses to join us. Fortify Varley's position. Give their neighbors a taste of stability. Something to be envious about."

"Yes, my king."

Wilhelm's eyes narrowed. "And render all assistance to Lord Cichol's mission. Remind our subjects that if they wish to remain our subjects, they cannot act as savages."

Aegir's fist pounded his chest. "It will be done."

Count Vestra's lip quirked. "In any case, there is one bit of good news in all this. King Nemesis, by all reports, has completely turned a blind eye to the south, and is content hunting the jungles of Sreng." He grunted. "We still have some time yet to prepare for the inevitable."

All this death. Carnage. There had to be something, someone who could fix all the wrongs. All the horror. Someone to unite a shattered kingdom…

Oh. "...What of Elanor?" Seiros asked. There were a number of confused stares at that.

Count Vestra's brow furrowed. "...Who?"

It was understandable. Seiros hadn't thought of the girl since they made a hasty retreat from Gronder. "The princess. Who Wilhelm was to marry."

Seiros could feel Macuil settle into a glare at the reminder. Count Vestra quickly glanced through his papers, and after a minute found the answer. "She's dead."

Seiros shared a glance with Wilhelm. His lips were pulled tight, and his hand was icy cold. "...For how long?"

Count Vestra studied her before answering. "A while."

"Goodnight, my darlings." Seiros said as she kissed her children on the cheek, Wilhelm copying her shortly after. "Mommy and daddy love you both."

"More than anything." Wilhelm added.

The two children yawned. "G'night, mommy…" Lycaon said tiredly. Procyon nuzzled against Wilhelm's cheek.

After the children were put to bed, Seiros and Wilhelm retreated into their own quarters, laying next to each other. They shared a quick kiss and turned off the lights. Sirius hung bright outside the window. Glowing as it had in Seiros' youth, as it would a thousand years from now.

She had caused this. With her selfishness. Her deluded, foolish belief in Wilhelm. One hundred thousand dead in Gronder, with many more to come. Nemesis, still pillaging wherever he pleased. The dead still unavenged. Adrestia's armies were busy trying to keep control of their own borders, barely functioning with the lesser manpower.

When they did take control of Gronder—If they did take control—a generation of soldiers would have been slain, fighting useless, pointless battles against each other. It would take years to prepare for the true war against Nemesis, years where he and his butchers would still be running wild across the Fódlan.

Millions would die in shallow graves. Cut off from life too early, never knowing the taste of joy or the sweet lull of peace. Uncountable children would never know their father's pride or their mother's love. The dead would make mountains, towering above Enbarr's highest towers. And the murdered, the countless murdered, would remain unavenged, their bones warped and twisted into vile, hideous things.

Because Seiros failed to take control. She had been selfish, and chose her happiness and peace of mind over the fate of Fódlan.

"Seiros?" Wilhelm whispered. She shifted. He was tired, in body and spirit. "Are you…" He stopped himself. She stared back at her husband, watching as he grappled with what they had learned.

"I haven't forgotten my promise." He said quietly. "I don't know how yet, but we will save Fódlan. End this madness." He brushed a stray hair out of her face, behind her ear. "After Cichol and Aegir establish a foothold, we should go. Do what we can. Like we did when we pulled Adrestia together."

Seiros leaned into his touch. Yes. He had sworn to her that night. And her Wilhelm always kept his promises.

Their happiness was deserved, no matter what. And after that briefing, they deserved a little bit more.

"I'm pregnant again." Seiros whispered as she kissed her husband.

It was foolish to take all the blame. A kingdom falling into ruin so quickly, so spectacularly, was bound to be full of internal conflicts. If Wilhelm had gone through with the treaty, and joined Adrestia and Gronder as one, there would be no guarantee that civil war wouldn't have broken out for any number of reasons. Even with a single enemy to fight, humans' aggressive stupidity had a habit of blowing up in their faces.

Yes. Seiros had been right to follow her love. She had saved Adrestia from taking in a madhouse. And still, there was time. Plenty of time to avenge the dead. To take Nemesis' head. To raise her children with the man she loved.

She may be forced to outlive Wilhelm. Even her son and daughter. Perhaps even this third child. But all of them would know a world without Nemesis before they tasted death. That Seiros swore as she embraced her husband under the starlight.

...And they lived happily ever after.

Except for all the people who died. And the millions more still to die in the coming Holy War. But the named characters were happy, so horay?

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that exorcise in nails and horseshoes, and for reading this fic as a whole! It's been fun to experiment with how Rhea's nack for self-delusion shapes history, and the bloody consequences.

As for this chapter, I could probably expand it into something bigger, but that would take just a bit too much time. Someday, perhaps.