Jeralt had a fresh bouquet of violets in his hand, though it was hard to feel the stems beneath his thick gloves.
Today was the day.
For the captain of the Knights of Seiros, he certainly felt like a schoolboy today. He knew she was waiting for him on the benches in front of the students' homerooms. He even had the perfect ring forged on their last mission. It burned a hole in his pocket.
Of course, he was fairly certain Sitri would say yes. But his time as a knight had taught him to never expect what you thought was going to happen.
As he passed the covered walkway that led onto the grass, he saw her. She sat elegantly on the bench, her face firmly planted in a book. He took a deep breath before continuing on, wondering what she was reading this time.
She loved to hear his tales from his missions to faraway lands. Having rarely left the monastery herself, she used to listen to him for hours on end. Dagda, Duscar, Brigid… She found all of their cultures fascinating.
Sitri's eyes lifted from the pages of her book as she greeted him with a warm smile, "my knight finally returns."
Jeralt returned her smile, his heart dancing in his chest. "I could do without such long missions."
She closed her book and rested it in her lap. "But then you wouldn't be able to travel as far."
He pretended to think about it, rubbing his chin with his free hand, "yeah, I think I'd be okay with that. After all, it would mean staying close to you."
"Are those for me?" Her eyes lowered to the bouquet he carried.
"No," he shook his head. "They're for me, actually. You know how I love to put their stems behind my ears."
Sitri covered her mouth as she laughed softly, "and what a handsome flower-man you'd be!"
He extended his arm and handed her the bouquet. She took them and immediately pressed her nose into the petals, "they smell wonderful!"
"Yeah, well…" Jeralt trailed off as he rubbed the back of his head. Sitri had commented several times that it was an involuntary habit of his, one that he did when he was nervous.
"What's on your mind, my knight?" Her smile made his cheeks flush.
Why was he so nervous? They had declared their love for one another many new moons ago. But somehow, now that he was standing in front of her, with the ring in his pocket, he felt a lump form in his throat.
"You see, the thing is…" Jeralt suddenly felt as if he had lost twenty years. Put him in front of an opposing army and his heart narily skipped a beat. But to finally join together with Sitri, and the mighty Blade-Breaker found himself at a loss for words. "The thing is, I want to be with you, Sitri." He finally forced himself to say. It was a lot louder than he had intended, but he was glad the words escaped his mouth.
"I know, my love," Sitri grinned from ear to ear. "I think we've far established that."
"Well, I mean," Jeralt's heart pounded against his rib cage, "What if we were to make it… I don't know, official?"
She raised her brows as she put her hands behind her back and playfully leaned forward, "are you asking me what I think you are?"
"Yeah," he blurted out. "Whaddya say?"
Sitri couldn't help but laugh at his clumsy words, "Captain Jeralt, I do believe that is the most romantic thing I've ever heard. 'Whaddya say?' What girl doesn't dream of hearing those poetic words?" She teased him and he felt his face growing redder by the moment.
"Is that a yes?" His hand instinctively scratched the back of his head. "Or are you going to tease me some more?"
"I certainly enjoy it," She giggled.
"Oh!" How could he forget. He reached in his pocket and retrieved the ring he had made especially for her. "I got ya a ring and everything." Jeralt held it out to her, gingerly gripping it between his fingers.
Her smile grew wider as she peered at it. "It's beautiful."
Jeralt's eyes gleamed with excitement.
"I'll make you a deal," Sitri playfully swayed back and forth. Jeralt couldn't help but be mesmerized by her motions, it was her innocence and child-like mischievous streak that had first attracted him to her.
"Okay," he played along. "What are the conditions of this deal?"
"I'll say yes," Sitri began, holding her pointer finger in the air. "If you can catch me."
"If I can catch you?" Jeralt chuckled. "Is this some kind of-"
But before he could finish, Sitri gripped her dress and began to lightly gallop across the grass.
His eyes widened. She was serious. Of course she was, he chalked up her playful nature to being cooped up day after day in the monastery.
Jeralt broke into a light jog, more than willing to indulge her.
She slowed her gallop as she turned her body to face him, the bottom of her dress flared. Jeralt rapidly approached her as he slowed his pace. He reached out his arm to place his hand on her shoulder.
But to his surprise, Sitri deftly spun her body away from him and his hand gripped nothing but air.
"We'll never be married at this rate!" She teased.
"Playing hard to get are we?" He took several steps toward her, anticipating another spin. "I thought we had passed this phase."
Sitri intertwined her hands behind her back as she tilted her head, "I'll never be past this phase."
"Is that a promise?" Jeralt closed in on her. He snapped out his opposite arm, hoping to catch her off-guard.
But again, Sitri leaned backward and his hand missed. He had to give her credit for her flexibility.
"It's this armor," Jeralt offered his flimsy excuse. "It's much too heavy for such an agile exercise."
Being the captain of the most revered army in all of Fodlan, Jeralt was certainly fit. But surprisingly, he found himself slightly out of breath as he chased her. When she would step left, he would step to his right. He mirrored her every movement.
Sitri feigned a serious look, "of course it is, my love. But I have a feeling the third time might be the charm."
He took it as an invitation as he took several steps forward. Sitri looked at him from the corner of her eyes. Jeralt reached out his arm slowly, a hair away from her arm.
Sitri took a solid step forward, into his hand.
Jeralt's smile grew wide as he swallowed hard, realizing what this meant. "Is that… a yes?"
Sitri closed the distance between them even further. Her smile faded as she leaned her head closer to his.
He could feel her warm breath upon his face as their lips grew closer.
"Yes," she softly replied as she leaned into his lips.
"I demand he be removed from his post at once!" Ryler huffed.
Seteth stood solemnly by Lady Rhea's side at the top of the steps. While Ryler and Byleth stood at the bottom.
Edelgard stood behind him, but only barely. He could feel her muscles tense with every noise Ryler made.
Catherine and Shamir loitered toward the back of the throne room.
"It was a blatant show of disrespect for me in front of my knights!" Shamir wasn't exaggerating. Byleth could've sworn he saw spit fly from the man's mouth.
"Quiet yourself, Ryler," Lady Rhea held up her hand. She turned her eyes to Byleth, "what do you have to say to these allegations."
Byleth could hear Edelgard's nasally huffs. He could tell she desired to remove her filter, to say what was truly on her mind.
"I say…" Byleth carefully thought through his words. "That I did, indeed, behead Lord Lonato."
"Against my direct orders!" Ryler's face was redder than Byleth thought possible for a human being.
"He didn't say not to behead him," Byleth coolly replied.
Shamir's chortle echoed through the throne room.
"I didn't want him beheaded!" Ryler's outbursts were sounding more childish.
"You did not order me to preserve his head." Byleth knew his words were getting under his skin, deeply. He knew how to fight with more than just his sword. The more enraged Ryler became, the less credibility he held. "Therefore, I did not defy a direct order."
"You know what I mean, professor," Ryler mocked his title. He looked up at Lady Rhea, "My intentions were clear. I was ordered to make an example of Lonato, and this… this… mercenary believed he knew better than me."
Edelgard stepped forward and collided with Byleth's shoulder. He turned his gaze and shook his head. She took several deep breaths before she backed up half a step.
"Lady Rhea," Byleth began. "You appointed me a professor to the Black Eagle house and further ordered my class on this mission. I believed Ryler to be in charge of the Knights of Seiros while I remained in charge of my students. Was I incorrect in my assumption?"
Lady Rhea shook her head. "You are not incorrect."
"At the realization of what Ryler had planned for Lord Lonato's end," he continued. "I believed it to be in the best interest of my students to not watch a man be strangled to death."
"Your students were clear across the field!" The angry knight had only one volume setting at the moment, and it was beginning to pound against Byleth's ears. "They would've seen no such thing!"
"My students are curious," Byleth rebutted. "I often find them disobeying my instructions just to satisfy that curiosity." He was directly referring to Edelgard's venture into the woods after him and Shamir, but he wasn't certain she was comprehending much through her rage.
"Then you are clearly a poor teacher," Ryler smirked.
"Or, perhaps they are great students,." Byleth quipped.
"You believed sparing your students' the sight of Lonato's execution to be in their benefit?" Seteth scoffed. "It won't be the last time they'll witness such a thing."
"I did not want this to be their first," Byleth never lost his cool demeanor. "And I will not condone such barbarism to my class, lest they grow to disregard human life."
"Barbarism?" Ryler's eyes were now crazed. "Are you calling me, a Knight of Seiros, a barbarian?"
"I'm simply saying a headless lord is just as much of a deterrent as a hanging one."
"So you know better than I do, in regards to fulfilling the church's orders?" Ryler feigned a laugh, "oh, the arrogance!"
"I'm not saying that at all." Byleth shook his head. "I'm saying that if it were me walking the road through Gaspard, I'd be a lot more afraid of a head in the middle of the road and than an intact body hanging from a tree."
"Lady Edelgard," Rhea suddenly called out. "Do you believe the professor's actions were in the best interest of the Black Eagle house?"
"Yes," Edelgard did not hesitate. "Many of my classmates have never witnessed such brutality. Not when their foe was already bound and helpless. I do believe, with all of my heart, that it could have been detrimental to not only their morale, but their minds as well."
Lady Rhea gave her a gentle nod.
"As is nearly trying to kill my teacher," Edelgard couldn't help but mutter under her breath. Byleth guessed she muttered it a lot louder than intended.
"Yes," Lady Rhea's voice was as calm as ever, as if she were not dealing with such a hostile situation. "I heard from one of your knights, Ryler, that you denied the professor aid?"
"I did no such thing," Ryler averted his gaze as he clenched his jaw. "I was merely misinformed on how dire the situation truly was. Of course, had I known that the mercenary had lost as much blood as he did. I would've gladly provided one of my healing mages."
"If I may, Lady Rhea," Shamir's voice echoed through the large room.
"I'd stay out of it, if I were you," Catherine tried to whisper, but the acoustics of the throne room carried her voice further than she intended.
Lady Rhea nodded as Shamir approached the stairs, "I accurately reported what I knew about the situation."
"And what was it that you reported?" Lady Rhea inquired.
"That Byleth had sustained two major injuries, either of which could be fatal alone if left untreated." Shamir explained. "I will not have my integrity called into question without defending myself."
"And how did Ryler reply?" Lady Rhea pushed her further.
"He said the mercenary deserved every ounce of pain he endured." Shamir shot Ryler a narrowed glare, "and that if we were lucky, he'd drop dead before being brought before you."
"I was merely angry," Ryler tried to offer his reasoning, as flimsy as it was. "Of course, I meant no harm behind the statements."
"No harm?" Edelgard interjected. "He could have died. How much more harmful could one possibly get?"
Byleth lifted his hand, in an attempt to temper Edelgard's anger. She bit her tongue.
"She speaks the truth," Shamir shrugged, clearly not intimidated having to speak in front of the Archbishop. "Due to his unwillingness to help. I had to dig an arrowhead out with nothing but my knife. Both wounds had to be doused with pure alcohol and then we then proceeded to cauterize his wounds without any aid from numbing herbs."
Ryler immediately dropped his head in an attempt to hide his wide grin.
"It seems Ryler was destined to inflict torture, one way or another." Shamir finished.
Lady Rhea took a deep breath, "I will need time to reflect on this matter. But one thing is clear, Byleth will remain the professor of the Black Eagles house."
"If that is the case, then what matter needs to be deliberated? If he's just free to defy a knight's orders?" Ryler grew more brazen as he threw his hands in the air.
It appeared even Lady Rhea's patience had boundaries, "The matter on if you willingly committed attempted murder by neglect. Byleth is an esteemed professor, serving many of Fodlan's nobles. It does not serve one's benefit to make powerful enemies, Ryler."
"M-me?" Ryler stumbled over his words, "Lady Rhea, I would never do such a thing." Byleth inwardly sighed at the sheer cowardice in Ryler's change of tone. At least stand by your statements, whatever consequences may come.
"I've heard enough for today," she replied. "I'll have Seteth summon you once I've reached a decision."
Byleth offered a bow to the Archbishop before he turned and started to make his way to the stairs. Edelgard followed suit.
They walked for several minutes in silence. Edelgard followed him though he was sure she didn't know where he was going. It seemed to be out of instinct that she turned down the same halls he did. Slowed when he slowed.
"His arrogance was infuriating!" She finally broke the silence. "I never knew such a man existed! Really, the nerve in completely denying he refused to provide a healing mage!"
He grinned at the thought that he could probably walk through the mens' only sauna, perhaps even the restroom and she would follow, too blinded by her rage to notice where she was going.
Byleth didn't reply, he made his way across the courtyard while Edelgard fumed.
"How can one hold such high esteem in themselves when they are so willing to brazenly lie to save face?"
Byleth turned toward the cafeteria entrance.
"I mean, truly, how can you practically throw a tantrum in the presence of adults? 'I didn't want him beheaded!'" She mocked Ryler's outburst.
He opened the door for her and let her pass.
"All the while, you could've died! Do you know how your student's would've been affected?" She continued as she entered the cafeteria thoughtlessly.
Byleth grabbed two clean plates from the end of the cafeteria line, and handed her one. Edelgard gripped it with both of her hands. "It's simply why you must be more careful, my teacher. I know you don't want to appear weak, a sentiment I can related to, but in the end-"
"Professor!" A gentle voice called out. Byleth turned to see Ashe's freckled face approaching them.
"Wait, is it lunchtime already?" Edelgard examined her surroundings.
"Ashe," Byleth acknowledged.
"Professor, I heard about what happened," Ashe lowered his head. "While the outcome was regrettable, I'm glad you were there."
"It was the least I could do," Byleth offered him a gentle smile. He wished Lord Lonato could have been spared, but given the circumstances he was glad he was able to keep his promise.
"I just hope you don't get into too much trouble," Ashe lifted his eyes. "What you did took a lot of courage. Perhaps, in another life, you and he could have been friends."
"I imagine we would have been," Byleth firmly nodded. "He seemed to be an honorable man, and a very good tactician."
"I must go," Ashe gave him a solemn bow. "But I want you to know that I will never forget what you did for me."
"Will you not join us for lunch?" Byleth queried.
Ashe shook his head, "I'm afraid I have much studying to catch up on."
"I understand," and with a quick exchange of weak smiles. Ashe left the cafeteria.
He turned to see the chef looking at him expectantly. Byleth hadn't had the chance to see what they had prepared.
"He'll have the beast meat teppanyaki, rare please," Edelgard answered in his stead.
Byleth furrowed his brow as he glanced at her, "rare?"
"You are still recovering, my teacher," Edelgard answered. "The iron nutrients will help with replacing the blood you've lost."
He did not protest. Byleth had no particular preference when it came to his meals, as long as they provided sustenance.
"Professor!" A jovial voice filled his ears. A sudden tightness in his chest, he was still not dull to the attention that he was receiving. It seemed to increase with every passing day.
Byleth turned to scan the bustling cafeteria and saw Ferdinand waving his hand in the air. Many of the Black Eagles sat with him. "Join us!" Ferdinand called out.
His ears throbbed as he pushed Ferdinand onto his back. His eyes were open.
A dead man's stare.
Byleth's head spun. His surroundings blurred.
"My teacher!" Edelgard's words were muffled as he heard a loud crash and realized his hands were now empty.
He frantically searched for the counter that should be near him. Byleth felt a delicate arm wrap around his waist, it pushed him against what felt like the cafeteria counter.
"Huburt, help me get him seated!"
Byleth's arm lifted on its own and wrapped around something sturdy, something warm. His feet were moving.
"Is he okay?"
"What's wrong with him?"
Byleth's vision began to clear. He turned his head to see that Hubert had wrapped his arm around his waist and guided him toward the table where the Black Eagles sat. His arm was held in place around Hubert's shoulders.
"I'm…" Byleth's words sounded odd as they left his mouth as if they were someone else's. "I'm okay."
"Sit." Hubert stated.
Dorothea stood and leaned on the opposite side of the table, her eyes wide and unsure.
Petra had scooted herself as close to Ferdinand as possible, clearing a space on the bench next to her.
Byleth did not object. Instead, he lowered himself onto the bench next to Petra.
"A-are you okay?" Bernadetta's brow was scrunched tightly with worry.
Edelgard followed close behind. "Stay here, my teacher. I will retrieve your food and something to drink. Perhaps some juice will do you good."
"Really," Byleth shook his head. "I'm fine. I just got a little off-balanced."
Edelgard turned on her heel and made her way back to the food counter, ignoring his dismissal.
"My plate…" He trailed off.
"The cafeteria staff will clean it up." Hubert stood above him. Byleth got the impression that he intended to make sure Byleth stayed seated whether he wanted to be or not.
Hubert extended his arm toward him. In his hand, he held a delicate white cloth.
Byleth lifted his gaze, his eyes confused.
"For your nose." Hubert coolly explained.
He instinctively wiped his wrist against his nostrils and immediately felt a liquid warmth. Sure enough, on his wrist was another streak of blood.
What's wrong with me?
Edelgard stood in front of their homeroom with her classmates. She had hoped a good night's rest did her teacher well and that his strength would soon return.
It was the first day of class since they returned from Gaspard and she worried that having to teach at a time such as this would only do more harm than good.
"Should we go check on him?" Caspar broke the silence.
"Our professor was wanting us to be waiting here," Petra shook her head.
Edelgard saw her teacher emerging from the training room. He carried a full sack over his shoulder as he turned to make his way toward them.
"There he is," Dorothea also caught notice. "Do you think he's feeling better? He really had us worried yesterday."
Worried was an understatement. While Edelgard knew there was still much to learn, she was not naive. Being struck in the face would not cause multiple nose bleeds over a several day span. Not unless there was internal bleeding, perhaps even aneurysms.
"Good morning," Byleth nodded as he swung the sack over his shoulder and let it fall to the ground.
Edelgard was able to see several training weapons inside.
"I thought it would be nice to have class outside today," He breathed deeply as he turned his eyes to each of his students.
"Are we to spar today?" Ferdinand had already begun rummaging through the sack that laid on the ground.
Byleth nodded. "I noticed during our battle at Gaspard that many of you relied on your instincts to block incoming strikes. I want to start teaching you something that my father taught me."
"The Dance of Water?" Leonie's eyes beamed with passion.
He nodded again. "We're going to start today and we're going to practice every weekday for at least an hour."
The students clamored around the sack of sparring weapons, many favoring the stubby wooden sword.
"The point of this exercise is not to parry your sparring partner," Byleth continued. "If your weapons collide, then you're doing it wrong."
Edelgard cautiously pulled a sword from the sack. Though Leonie had already received some training, and she, herself, had practiced a little in secret, she knew her professor would be demonstrating to the rest of her classmates.
The thought of him exerting his body so soon after the recent events made her uneasy.
Byleth expertly twirled his wooden sword by it's haft a few times as he spoke, "just like it's namesake, the point is to push and pull as the waves of the water do. This will help you not be so stationary during fights, but to move about the battlefield quicker than your enemies."
He separated himself from the rest of the class on the open grass and nodded toward her, "Edelgard, would you care to demonstrate with me?"
Her eyes widened. She had not expected her teacher to call upon her. If anyone was to be chosen, she suspected it would be Leonie who would earn a spot as Byleth's sparring partner.
"Of course," she stated, trying to keep her surprise in check. Edelgard approached him. He loosened his shoulders as he raised his wooden weapon. She searched his body for any hint of strain, but could find none. His demeanor was as if nothing had happened.
"We'll go at half speed to start with. Get used to the movements and don't be afraid to move your feet," Byleth spoke to the class before returning his gaze to Edelgard.
She let the tip of her blade rest upon the ground as she looked into his eyes. Edelgard's private tutors had always taught her that an enemy's eyes will betray their next movement.
Byleth lifted his sword, seemingly in slow motion and brought it down as Edelgard took a few steps to her right, letting his blade fall beside her.
"Don't be afraid to get to know your partner," Byleth spoke as he slowly swung his blade across his body. Edelgard leaned backward to avoid contact with his sword once again. "Study their movements. Get to know how they move."
This time, it was Edelgard that raised her blade and brought it down diagonally across her body. Byleth turned on his heel and spun his body coming to a stop at her side. She examined his movements, but he had not hesitated. He showed no favor to his still mending wounds.
"The more you get to know how one another fights, the faster you'll be able to go." Byleth continued as he kept his gaze locked on Edelgard's eyes.
Edelgard thought the feeling of longing for his gaze would have faded away by now, especially after her wish was granted on their fishing expedition. But she could feel her heartbeat increasing, suddenly keenly aware of the blood that pumped through her veins.
"Now pair up with your partners," Byleth instructed, unaware of the thoughts that flooded Edelgard's mind. "Hubert, if you wouldn't mind taking my place with Caspar."
"I must object." Hubert lowered his brow, "I do not… dance."
"Then it's a fine time to learn," Byleth replied, never breaking his eye contact with her. He took a step toward Edelgard and she instinctively took a step back.
"Do as he says, Hubert," Edelgard ordered, though her mind was elsewhere. She only longed for silence as she cocked her arm backward and thrusted her weapon forward. Byleth effortlessly skipped to his side, his feet barely touched the ground.
"Yes, Lady Edelgard." Hubert showed no hint of irritation to her instruction.
Byleth gave her a small grin as he expertly tossed the haft of his sword to his left hand and raised his arm in a backhanded strike. Edelgard bent forward as far as she could as the blade skimmed her back, but never made contact. As she straightened her body, she shot him a sly smile of her own.
But before she could revel in her skill, Byleth spun his body, his blade approaching her faster than before. She jumped backward and sucked in her stomach, his wooden sword had not even grazed her.
Byleth did not praise her, he only watched her eyes intently as he waited for her rebuttal. Edelgard spun her body in an effort to close the distance between them and had expected to see him moving backward, away from her but she was surprised to see that he had pivoted with her. They now stood where the other had only moments ago.
Edelgard felt the heat rise in her body, the excitement began to boil over as she sidestepped another of his strikes. Their eyes intently focused on one another, reading each other's bodies.
It somehow felt natural. The thrill of such a worthy opponent made her heart flutter.
They moved faster than before. Each swinging their swords with a little more speed while spinning their bodies faster and faster in a fluid dance of battle. They may have been swinging their weapons, but neither the wood nor their skin ever made contact as they mirrored each other's movements.
She would step to her left, he would to his right.
It was then that Edelgard noticed his smile was larger than she had ever seen. It nearly went from ear to ear as his eyes focused on hers, awaiting her next movement.
This isn't just the thrill of a worthy opponent.
Edelgard tried to clear her mind as she swayed her body, determined to not let his blade touch her. She returned his strike with a thrust of her own. As expected, he deftly skipped to his side and swung his weapon sideways.
This isn't just the thrill of the battle.
Her feet weren't moving as fluid as they were a moment ago but she still managed to avoid his attack.
Battles don't cause your chest to feel like this.
Edelgard spun her body, more determined to push her thoughts from her mind. She brought her blade down and it collided with the ground.
Opponents don't make your heart feel this way.
Her breathing increased as she swung her blade sideways. Byleth dropped to a single knee and craned his neck, ensuring her sword would pass by him unharmed.
Edelgard felt a soft poke in her thigh. She looked down to see Byleth still on his knee with his arm extended, the tip of his blade gently poked her in her inner thigh. She deflated in defeat as he looked up at her. His own breathing was more rapid than before but the smile hadn't faded from his face.
For a moment, she kept her eyes locked on his. Her heart sank for she finally realized what this feeling really was.