Wow! It's been 11 days since I started writing this story and we're on Chapter 19, almost 80K words and a ton of support! I want to thank you all and to let you know that I have no intentions of stopping this momentum until this story is COMPLETE! Which according to my rough outline is probably… 40-50 chapters from now, maybe more. My holiday PTO starts next week, so it won't be too hard to make some good progress toward that :)

Edelgard's heartbeat would not slow, she feared if it kept up at this pace, it may very well burst from her chest.

Her classmates clamored around her within their homeroom, doing their last minute wrapping of the presents they acquired from the market or otherwise.

Edelgard held a single card in her hand, neatly sealed in an envelope with her wax stamp that bore her initials. She had numerous thoughts of simply tossing it into the trash and attempting to weasel her way into one of her classmate's presents.

She knew Dorothea would allow her to put her name on the gift her, Annette and Bernadetta had procured, but Edelgard quickly dismissed the idea. She knew what they intended to give to their teacher, and Edelgard did not want to put her name on it. Nor did she want to put her name to Ferdinand, Caspar and Lindhardt's present.

That only left what Leonie, Shamir, Ingrid and Petra had custom-made for him. By far, it was the best option. But Edelgard pushed those thoughts from her mind. She would not resort to claiming something that she had no part in.

"Hubert," Edelgard whispered loudly. "What did you get the professor?"

"Nothing," he replied coldly.

Of course he would say that. If he only knew what her teacher had done for them. Her mind recalled the memories of their talk in which her teacher revealed the many deaths he had lived through. If Hubert knew that their professor had saved her own life not once, but twice, she had a feeling Hubert might allow his cold exterior to warm, if only just a little.

"He's here!" Dorothea exclaimed.

"I am… here," the sound of her teacher's confused voice only heightened Edelgard's panic.

"Happy birthday, professor!" Annette shouted as loud as she could.

Edelgard dropped her card on the professor's desk as she turned around to face him. He stood in the doorway of their homeroom. His eyes scanned the room at the loose groups his students formed.

"How old are you now?" Caspar threw his arm around the professor's shoulders and jostled his ribs. "As old as Ferdinand? Or are you finally eighteen like Lady Edelgard?"

"Caspar," Edelgard interrupted. She did not have a follow up to his jest, but she was desperate to divert the attention from his age as it had never occurred to her that he may very well be younger than herself.

"You guys did all of this, for me?" Her teacher's eyes rested on the several wrapped items that sat on the desks.

"Yes!" Annette threw her arms into the air. "We even made another batch of Sweet Bun Trio!"

"I wouldn't eat it," Shamir rubbed her eyebrow. Her words were low in an obvious attempt to keep them from Annette's ears.

"Happy day of birth, professor!" Petra stood beside the knight, a smile beamed from her face. "We are all being glad that you were born!"

"Thank you, Petra," Byleth let a soft grin form from his lips.

"I say we go to the presents first!" Ferdinand's voice boomed in their small homeroom.

"I agree," Lindhard even seemed more awake than usual, "after such sweets, I'll need to go directly to my quarters to sleep it off."

"Fine," Dorothea put a single hand on her hip, "but ladies first."

"Dorothea and Annette picked it out… bu-but I helped!" Bernadetta stood at the table, her eyes rested upon the crumbled gift in front of her.

Edelgard tried to refrain from shaking her head. Instead, she had mimicked Shamir and rubbed a single eyebrow. She had seen what they had gotten him, and Edelgard knew that it was… not quite the professor's taste.

"Go ahead and open it!" Annette's smile was contagious as she hopped over to Dorothea.

Byleth smiled and approached the table, "you really didn't have to get me anything."

"Oh hush," Dorothea waved her hand dismissively.

Their professor gingerly pulled apart the wrapping of their gift. It took several moments but he finally lifted a black shirt by its shoulders. He held it before him as he gazed upon it. It wasn't just any shirt, it was-

"It's a gentleman's blouse!" Dorothea exclaimed as she clapped her hands.

Byleth opened his mouth but no words came out. Instead he gave her a warm smile.

"See, right here?" Annette held one of the sleeves between her fingers as he held it in the air, "The barrel cuffs are made from the finest cotton, and they even dyed it red to match the Black Eagles!"

The barrel cuffs were not the only thing dyed red, the frills that blossomed from the v-neckline were also red.

"I love it," Byleth lowered his brow. "I've always wanted one."

"R-really?" Bernadetta perked up.

Edelgard could hear the restraint in his voice as she pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back a smile.

"You must try it on!" Dorothea pushed. "It'll bring out the blue in your eyes!"

"Right now?" Byleth swallowed hard.

"You want our professor to disrobe in front of us?" Caspar lifted his brow mischievously. "It's not that kind of party, Dorothea."

"There's a perfectly good chalkboard that he can change behind," she sent a scowl flying toward Caspar.

"Great idea!" Annette put her hand on the small of her professor's back and ushered him toward the chalkboard.

Edelgard could see his eyes widen just before he disappeared behind the small cover. She leaned on the desk as she averted her gaze.

Annette and Dorothea impatiently waited just on the other side, it was a wonder he had any privacy at all.

"How's it going?" Dorothea craned her neck.

There was a brief pause from behind the chalkboard. "It's… going."

It was several more moments before the professor emerged with his old shirt and coat clutched in his arms in front of his chest. The black blouse was a tight enough fit that it outlined the contours of his torso.

"Oh it's a perfect fit!" Annette seemed thrilled. She swiftly took his clothes from his arms and placed them on the nearest table.

"It really is," Dorothea used her fingers to pull at the deep red frills from his chest, puffing them out. "So handsome!"

Byleth swallowed again, he did not reply and he could not bring himself to look down at his new shirt. He did, however, manage to muster a grin.

Edelgard had to drop her eyes to the floor as her lips wiggled involuntarily. She did not wish to laugh at a moment like this.

"Ours should be next," Ferdinand approached their teacher with a thin white box.

"Wait a minute," Leonie crossed her arms, "I thought it was ladies first."

"True," Ferdinand nodded. "However, it seems what Lindhardt, Caspar and I have procured actually matches the theme our classmates have already established."

"A theme?" Their professor seemed worried.

Ferdinand handed the box to him. Byleth hesitated before he placed it on the table. He cautiously lifted the lid from the bottom, almost as if he had expected something to jump from it.

The professor lifted a crimson cloth from the box. It shimmered the higher he lifted it.

"It's a nobleman's cape!" Caspar excitedly exclaimed.

Byleth opened his mouth and nodded his head, forcing another smile. Edelgard could easily tell he feigned his happiness and surprise to spare his students feelings, but it seemed no one else could read him as well.

Edelgard lifted her eyes and saw Shamir covering her mouth with a loose fist as she stared at the ground. Well, perhaps one other person could read him.

Ferdinand took the cape from Byleth's grasp and swung his arms over the professor's head. The cape flared and shimmered as it slowly settled. Ferdinand clipped one side to the blouse next to the professor's neck and secured the other end closer to his collarbone.

The cape covered three quarters of his body, just as a true nobleman.

"Oh I hate to admit it," Dorothea began as she eyed their teacher head to toe, "but you do have good taste, Ferdinand."

He grinned at her triumphantly, "it would seem the Black Eagles already had a color scheme in mind. I also have to admire our like-mindedness."

"Hey!" Caspar huffed. "Lindhardt and I helped!"

"It's… great," their professor looked down at his body for an extended period of time. "I absolutely love it."

"I'm glad, professor," Ferdinand beamed. "You will always be a true nobleman to us."

"Okay, enough with the frilly stuff," Leonie rose from her seat with a long, thin and loosely wrapped gift. "Our turn!"

"Our?" Their professor's face perked up. Edelgard guessed that he knew of Leonie's tastes, and it was more closely aligned with his.

"Yeah!" Leonie peered behind her and pointed. "Petra, Ingrid and Shamir all chipped in since we had to have it made by hand."

"We hope you like it, professor," Ingrid gave him a formal bow.

"I just gave them the dimensions," Shamir coolly replied.

"But that isn't being true," Petra furrowed her brow. "You also contributed to-"

"Just let him open it," Shamir interrupted as she took a seat at one of the tables.

Byleth took the stick-shaped gift from her and peeled away the wrapping. He let the paper fall to the floor as he held a black sheath in his hands.

"It's for the Sword of the Creator!" Leonie searched his eyes. But his eyes were firmly planted on the thick cloth in his hands. "It's a pretty unique sword, so we knew a regular sheath wouldn't fit. And Shamir said this will help avoid any unwanted noise from the sword bouncing around in a simple holster."

"It's wonderful," Edelgard could hear the genuine gratitude in his voice. "I love it."

Several beats of silence passed as all of his students looked at him expectantly.

"I can't believe you all did this, just for me," Byleth gave them a wide smile.

"You are indeed very special," Petra nodded. "To each of us, professor."

"I believe Captain Jeralt wanted to see you after this," Edelgard finally spoke.

"Not so fast!" Leonie interjected. "There's one more present!"

"No, there isn't," Edelgard shook her head. She wished she had a training sword right now that she could use to silence Leonie, just as she had several days before in the woods.

"But there is," Petra's face scrunched in confusion. "You also had something you wished to be giving the professor."

Now she knew how Shamir felt. Petra had a way of exposing your embarrassment with her brutal honesty. She couldn't hold it against her though, since she was still new to Fodlan's traditions, including that of avoiding awkwardness.

Edelgard reached behind her and retrieved her card. She released a deep sigh as she held it in front of her without looking up, "this is for you, my teacher. It's just a card so you may read it later."

"He opened the rest of his gifts in front of us," Dorothea crossed her arms and grinned.

Byleth gently took the card from her but she would not raise her gaze to meet his.

She could hear the sound of the envelope ripping as her chest tightened. Then something fell to the floor.

Edelgard knew what it was. Her teacher must have opened the card. She saw him bend over to retrieve it from the corner of her eye.

Several moments of silence passed and she contemplated running from their homeroom.

"Oh, Edie," it was Dorothea's voice, "this is gorgeous!"

"When did you draw this?" Annette asked, her voice was softer than usual. "Ingrid and I are in here too so it couldn't have been that long ago."

"My hair isn't that spikey, is it?" Caspar seemed only focused on his own piece of the portrait she had drawn.

Edelgard felt something on her shoulder. She turned her head to see her teacher standing over her. He greeted her with a warm smile as he held the parchment in his free hand.

"This is beautiful, Edelgard," he brought it back to his gaze. The smiling faces of each of his students stared back at him from the paper.

"Well," Edelgard began, her voice low. "Honestly the only thing I knew you cared for was your class, so…"

"So that's what Shamir would look like if she actually smiled," Leonie's jovial words didn't seem to reach the knight who still sat in the back of the homeroom.

He turned his eyes to Edelgard's. It was almost as if he was peering right through her, to her deepest self. It took every bit of courage she could muster to avoid averting her gaze. "I'll keep it with me, always."

Byleth walked past the stairs that led to the throne room. Dorothea had insisted on taking his usual shirt and coat to the laundry service herself. In part, he believed she was merely forcing him to walk about the monastery in his new gifts.

Byleth pulled the crimson cape further across his chest in an attempt to hide the red… frills that protruded from his low neckline. He had already secured The Sword of the Creator in its new sheath on his waistband and held Edelgard's card and parchment tightly in his hand. Once he was able to change, he knew he would secure her portraits in his breast pocket.

He didn't know what his father wished to speak to him about, and in a cemetery no less. But he wasn't far now.

"Professor," he recognized Hubert's voice. Byleth stopped and turned to see the tall man briskly walking toward him. His student didn't attempt to stealthily follow him this time. Today was certainly filled with new things.

"Hubert," he acknowledged. "What can I do-"

"I hope you know what you are doing," Hubert interrupted him as he approached.

"Excuse me?" Byleth's eyes darted across his surroundings. "I'm… walking."

"You know what I speak of," Hubert clenched his jaw as he came to a stop in front of him. He was so close that Byleth momentarily considered taking a few steps back.

"Actually, I don't," Byleth decided against it. Hubert always seemed to… despise him? He did not want to appear as if he were backing down.

"In regards to Her Highness," he coldly replied. "It seems her interest in you has only grown and it's led to… well, let's say that I do not approve of her recent changes of heart."

"I'm sorry," Byleth didn't know what else to say.

"At first, I thought her interest was only that of a fleeting desire of a young woman," Hubert seemed to be full of words today. "But that does not appear to be the case any longer."

Desire of a young woman? Byleth could feel his cheeks reddening. He imagined it wouldn't be long before he matched his new attire.

"I cannot say much here," Hubert continued. "But you need to open your eyes. More than that of a simple mercenary. The sooner you find answers, the sooner you may actually prove your use to Lady Edelgard."

"Why can't you just tell me what you're talking about?" Byleth lowered his brow. His sentence didn't make sense in his head the more he repeated it.

"As her loyal servant," his student ignored his plea, "I've no choice but to follow Her Highness, no matter where she leads me. And she's led me to you."

"And that's why you're standing before me?" Byleth struggled to understand.

"But if any harm, and I truly mean any harm," Hubert once again ignored his question. "I will hold you personally accountable."

Flashes of Edelgard's white hair flooded his mind. It was covered in blood as she laid face-down on the stone floor. Then the scythe meant for him that pierced her chest. Her sounds gargled as she struggled to speak.

"I will never, ever let anything happen to her," Byleth found his irritation growing with every word as he struggled to free his mind of the horrid thoughts. If Hubert knew of the things he had seen, of what he risked in order to undo it all…

"I figured you'd say as much," Hubert swallowed hard. "It seems I have no choice but to reluctantly accept what may come and pray that you are a man of your word."

"I am," Byleth gave him a firm nod.

"But make no mistake, it is coming, and soon."

"What's coming, Hubert?" And Byleth thought he was good at being mysterious.

Hubert's eyes peered into his, as if he wished to say something but his mouth would not allow it. He quickly turned and with his hands interlaced behind his back, he began walking away.

Byleth let their conversation repeat through his mind. Most of what Hubert had said made no sense, but perhaps that was his intention. No one sentence could be deciphered, but put together, the meaning was clear as day. Something was coming, and it intended to harm Edelgard.

However, what that something was could not be deduced from that conversation alone. But at least it raised the question.

Thank you, Hubert.

"And Hubert?" Byleth raised his voice so it would reach his student, who was now quite a distance from him. "I would never, ever let anything happen to you, either."

Hubert did not turn to face him, but his voice was clear as day. "I've left something in your quarters."

Alright, perhaps Byleth gave him too much credit. His thoughts immediately went to a poisonous snake between his blankets, perhaps even a multitude of gunpowder rigged to the door handle.

Either way, he would have to do a thorough investigation later. His father awaited his arrival.

Byleth turned and continued his walk and made a mental note to visit the library soon. He would have to do all the research he could, starting with the Adrestian Empire. If Edelgard was meant to inherit the throne, then whatever was coming could be directly related to it.

He descended the stairs that led to the cemetery, his mind still thinking of other topics he might be able to read about. Byleth did not like coming to one conclusion and sticking with it. Just as the exercise in the woods had proven, becoming infatuated with one idea could prove dangerous.

"What are you wearing?" His father's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Byleth peered up and saw Jeralt standing before a single headstone. He immediately looked down at his own body. Thanks to that intriguing conversation with Hubert, he had almost forgotten that he was walking about the monastery as red and frilly as a crimson flower.

"My students…" Byleth trailed off as he struggled to find the words. "Birthday."

Jeralt let out a hearty laugh. "If only the men in our old company could see you now."

Byleth shuddered at the thought. The company they used to keep would certainly never let him live it down.

"You wanted to see me?" Byleth was eager to change the topic.

"Yeah," Jeralt's hand went to the back of his head. Byleth knew what this meant. "After your close call in the infirmary… it really got me thinking."

Byleth scanned their surroundings, there were several headstones, but none with names he recognized. Then why would his father ask to meet him here?

Jeralt turned and let his eyes rest on one headstone in particular. Byleth read the name that was inscribed, Sitri.

"This is your mother's grave," Jeralt unexpectedly blurted out.

My mother?

Byleth narrowed his focus as he stepped closer. What his father had just said made no sense. Why would his mother be buried here in the monastery's cemetery?

"I thought…" Byleth chose his words carefully. "I thought she died giving birth to me."

Jeralt nodded as he crossed his arms in front of his wide chest. A defensive position. "She did."

"Then why is she buried here?" Byleth could do without any more riddles today. "I thought I was born after you left the monastery?"

Jeralt let out a deep sigh, "that wasn't… entirely true."

"I was born here, then?" Byleth couldn't tear his eyes from the name etched into the stone.

"So your mother's name was Sitri," Sothis solemnly added. "It's a beautiful name, indeed."

His father rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, right here in this monastery. It's where you were born and where she… you know."

Where she died, he finished his father's sentence in his head. "What was she like?"

Jeralt swallowed hard. Byleth knew it would be painful for him to recall the memories of his wife. But he hadn't even known her name before today. Somehow, seeing those letters on the headstone raised a lot more questions.

"She was pretty frail," Jeralt cleared his throat. "She almost never left the monastery, but when I'd get back from a mission with the Knights of Seiros… she would hang on every word as I'd regale her with the tales of battle."

Byleth tried to imagine what she'd look like. Would her hair be as blue as his was? Perhaps their eye color would have matched as well.

"She loved to play around," he chuckled. "The day that I proposed she insisted that I catch her first. Which was funny because I thought I already had. In fact…" Jeralt reached his fingers into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, silver ring. "This is the only keepsake I have of her."

Byleth looked at the ring. It was expertly forged. The silver wrapped smoothly and held together a collection of lightly colored gems.

"One day, it'll be yours," Jeralt twirled the ring between his fingers. "To give to someone as special to you as your mother was to me."

"You loved her…" Byleth let his words fade. Love was a foreign concept to him, he knew it was something that was supposed to feel amazing, or so he'd been told.

"It's not so foreign anymore," Sothis chimed in. "You must simply open your eyes."

Why does everyone keep telling me that today? Byleth tried to push her voice from his mind.

He tried to picture what his father must have been like in Sitri's presence. Was he still the man he'd known all his life, or perhaps a mere jovial schoolboy.

"With everything I am," Jeralt answered as he put the ring back into his breast pocket. "I still do. Anyhow, I'm due to head out for another mission. I wanted you… well, I wanted you to know… about her. With you teaching here, you can visit her anytime you want."

Byleth had never visited a headstone before. Was he meant to talk to the stone that rested above his mother's remains?

It was true that many of his father's men that had fallen in battle were buried. But they were usually on the move shortly thereafter, there had never been a return visit.

"It's getting pretty dark," Jeralt interrupted his thoughts. "What do you say we call it a night, we can talk more when I get back."

Byleth nodded and walked with his father up the stairs. Neither spoke as they silently parted ways at the stairwell that led to the second floor where his father was quartered.

He continued walking alone. Yesterday seemed like an eternity away. Yesterday was simple. He was only consumed with inventing new tactics and exercises that would better prepare his students for battle. Byleth had become optimistic that he may not be plagued with the lifeless eyes of those dearest to him for much longer.

But today. Today was complicated. Something was coming. Edelgard was in danger. His mother's name was Sitri. She died in this very monastery.

Before he knew it, he was staring at the door to his room. He had not forgotten Hubert's words. Byleth's thoughts would have to wait. For now, he had to let his mercenary instincts take charge to ensure he stayed alive to find the answers to those questions.

Byleth looked at the door handle. It was slightly pushed down. Someone had, in fact, been in his room. However, Hubert admitted it was him so that was no surprise. The surprise lay in wait inside his quarters.

He stepped closer to the door without touching it and brought his nose to the crack of the door and tried to see if he could make out any gunpowder. He smelled nothing.

Byleth placed a single finger on his door handle and let only the smallest of pressure press down. There didn't seem to be any extra resistance so it was highly unlikely that there was anything tied to it on the other side.

Byleth gave it a firm push and let the door creak open before him. Just as he suspected, no wires or strings were attached to the door. His eyes scanned his room from the outside but saw nothing out of the ordinary, except something had been placed on his desk. It was small and looked like a miniature hilt of a sword.

He slowly leaned his head in to peer above the doorway. Byleth wanted to ensure whatever was now on his desk was not bait to lure him into the room unsuspectingly.

Nothing on the ceiling. Nothing that could fall and pierce his head or neck.

Byleth took an extra moment to listen. If there was anything he had missed, surely it would make a creak, a hiss or some sign of its presence.

He stepped inside slowly, leaving the door open in case he needed a quick exit. He slowly approached his desk and found a dagger neatly sheathed in a black case.

The handle was lined with gold and wrapped with black shagreen. Byleth picked it up and placed the handle in his palm, studying the craftsmanship. It was custom made and not from around here. None of the blacksmiths within the monastery or surrounding villages could have made such an intricate thing.

Byleth pulled it from his case and revealed a dark steel blade. It must have had an iron oxide coating applied to it as the metal appeared almost as black as the sheath. Its color would reduce a reflection should another stealthy, brightly lit battle occur like in the Holy Mausoleum.

Etched just below the hilt was an eagle, its wings spread across the width of the blade.

Byleth couldn't help but to grin as he pushed the blade back in its cover.

Once again, Hubert had surprised him.

"Professor!" Byleth's grin quickly faded from his face. He knew that voice.

A moment later, Cyril appeared in his open doorway, he nearly slipped as he tried to stop his momentum, "Lady Rhea needs to see you immediately."

Byleth nodded, "Let me change first and I'll be on my way."

Cyril vigorously shook his head, "it's extremely urgent. Flayn, Seteth's sister, has gone missing!"