I think at no point in my life has more air escaped my lungs than when I exhale after my shackles are removed.

Honestly, I'm too much in shock to know what to do next, and I'm left standing by the defense bench as most of the crowd leaves. That includes Rhea and Catherine, who take their leave very quickly and barely acknowledge me any more than they already have. I guess they have more important things to do, what with sentencing a sitting professor to death and all.

The usual suspects—Seteth and Flayn, Hanneman and Manuela, and of course, my star witness and ace advocate—hang back a little bit, as does Dimitri, interestingly enough.

"Deepest congratulations on your innocence, Harrison!" Flayn cheers. "I knew you could do it!"

Seteth looks around at the small group and gives a short, polite bow. "I must thank you all for your contributions to proving Harrison innocent and exposing the identity of the true culprit."

I shake my head. "I should be thanking you—all of you." I gesture to Seteth. "You were the one who pushed for the trial in the first place."

"Ah, well," he says, "it was the least I could do to give you the chance to prove yourself." He folds his arms. "Now, I would love to stay and chat, but given the current state of affairs, I'll be needing to meet with the Archbishop to discuss arrangements with respect to the Officers Academy."

"Oh, we are down a colleague, aren't we?" Manuela says.

"You don't exactly sound concerned," Hanneman replies.

She turns to him. "Well… I hate to say it, but I suspect we'll be more effective as two."

Seteth regards them both with a nod. "Hanneman, Manuela. I'll need to speak with you both later today about Academy matters. And Harrison—" he turns to me "—take the rest of today and tomorrow off."

"Are you feeling okay?" I ask. "I don't think I get days off."

"Just try not to cause trouble for one day," he says with a sigh. "As if I need more of it from you."

Well, I appreciate the gesture, at the very least—though I know this won't be the last I hear about it from him. "I understand," I reply. "Thank you."

"Come along, Flayn," Seteth says. "We must be going."

The two bid their farewells and leave the same way that Catherine and Rhea did.

"I guess he really has a lot to do," I say, looking around at the rest of the assembled group. "But, I mean what I said. I—I can't thank all of you enough." I'm so effusively happy that I have trouble getting the words out without laughing and smiling like an idiot. "Manuela, with the foot stuff—Hanneman, the blood analysis—Claude with the decisive evidence—and the ace attorney of the hour over here!"

Edelgard smiles, but almost seems to shrink away at the praise.

"I'm most impressed with you three," Manuela says, laughing. "I knew you were sharp, but goodness, that was quite the performance! Not only the defending, mind you—but the showmanship, the delivery—spot-on, my dears." She turns to Hanneman. "Now as for you, I'm almost disappointed. You let that charlatan slip by you, fool you into thinking he had a Crest, hm?"

"I had no reason to doubt him!" Hanneman replies. "So, he had me look away while he pretended to pull out his hair. Those Leicester nobles can be even more prudish than those of the Empire. I thought nothing of it!" He shakes his head.

"I suppose I might've done the same," she says.

"In any case, it is of no consequence," Hanneman says. "He's gone now. I am glad to have been of service in solving this mystery, but there are other mysteries toward which I would like to turn my attention."

I laugh nervously. "You mean my blood, don't you," I reply quietly.

"Indeed," Hanneman replies. "But don't look so despondent! This could be something unique, something with potential! We—"

"Don't badger the kid like that," Manuela butts in. She wags a finger at her colleague. "Crestological mysteries and all, riveting stuff, but he just got spared from death row. Let the poor boy catch his breath, for the goddess's sake!"

"Right, right," Hanneman says. "I understand. My apologies. Do stop by my office sometime in the near future, however, once you are ready to plunge further into uncharted territory."

"Thanks, Professor," I reply.

"We should probably get going," Manuela adds with a sigh. "Won't be long before Seteth needs to set us straight about just how much work we're going to have to do until they find a new professor."

"Would the Archbishop promote Professor Jeritza?" Edelgard asks. "After all, he's already a weapons instructor. Why not move him to a full professorship?"

"And what about the field trip to Remire?" Claude cuts in. "Who's going to lead that?"

I give Claude, then Edelgard, each a curious glance. I remember some fan-theory that Edelgard's goal in organizing the bandit attack on Remire was not to kill Dimitri or Claude, but scare away the unnamed third professor—who we now know to have been Goneril—and install Jeritza, her loyal Death Knight, as his replacement. Could she have jumped on the trial and fought so hard in part to eliminate Goneril early?

Manuela shrugs. "We'll have to work that all out soon," she says. "But you kids should get some rest, okay? You've been working very hard, and you've earned it."

"Thank you, Professor," Edelgard says. We bid Manuela and Hanneman farewell, and once again, it's just me and the three house leaders.

I turn to look around at them—Dimitri, Claude, and Edelgard—and exhale sharply again. "Well, I don't know if you all have things to do or you still want to hang around me. But I'm getting out of this room," I say.

"Sounds good to me," Claude replies.

Sure enough, as I start to leave, they begin to follow me. I was partially hoping they wouldn't, but I understand now that I have their attention. The makeshift courtroom now mostly cleared out by now, I only have to weave past a few unfamiliar faces as I make my way to the exit. I briefly catch sight of Tomas—Solon—leaving as I do, and my stomach flips. Maybe Goneril had a connection to Those Who Slither after all?

No, I can't consider these possibilities, I think to myself. Edelgard's watching.

We leave the building and head over to an unoccupied area overlooking the precipitous drop down into the mountain range. Of course, it's walled off, so there's no danger of falling by accident. And given my apparent predisposition for getting myself cornered with no way out, I find myself with my back to that wall facing down the three house leaders once again.

"Hey, Dimitri," I begin, trying to break the awkward silence. "You look like you've got something on your mind. What's the matter?" I ask. After all, I'm not quite sure why he followed me, other than tagging along with Edelgard and Claude.

"Oh," he replies. "Yes. I simply wish to congratulate you on having your innocence established, and to apologize. The knights asked Professor Manuela and I some questions about that incident the other day with Professor Goneril's—" he shakes his head "—well, you know. I am deeply sorry that Dame Catherine sought to use it against you."

"So you believed Harrison was guilty?" Edelgard asks. Damn, she's ice cold. I mean, I was wondering too, but I don't have the gall to say anything!

"I did not," Dimitri replies. "But I did not think it proper to conceal anything from the duly appointed authorities. I told them what I saw and what I heard—no more, no less."

"But those duly appointed authorities were about to execute an innocent human being and let a murderer and a thief walk free after a sham of an investigation," Edelgard retorts.

"Still doesn't make lying okay," Claude jumps in. I can't be mad at Claude after what he did today, but that's some serious projection, given all the secrets he keeps. Lies of omission, technically. "His Princeliness has a point, you know."

Edelgard looks like she's about to jump in to say something, but Dimitri beats her to it.

"At any rate, I'm just glad that you three managed to expose the true culprit," he says. "Though I certainly wouldn't have expected who it turned out to be."

"No one would," I reply. "He was a member of a well-respected noble family, or so he purported to be." The princess gives me a piercing look as I finish the thought, as if she's expecting me to continue. "Well, I think that's what Edelgard was getting at. Even though it was the professor, the Church had no reason to doubt him as compared to the funny-sounding commoner."

"Indeed," she says. "All too often, the Church and the nobility overlook each others' faults, and the result is the miscarriage of justice and the suffering of the common people. We may have proven Harrison innocent, but there have been and will be others who are not so lucky to have allies willing to take a personal interest in the case."

Dimitri furrows his brow. "Respectfully, Edelgard, I believe you're being a bit pessimistic on the role of the nobility," he says. "We all need each other. The strength and power provided by Crests helps to protect us all."

Oh, now he's in for it. Edelgard scoffs, then steadies herself. "Like any power, it can be abused and used to destroy rather than protect. And when the Church calls that power a blessing, it puts those responsible for the destruction beyond reproach. Let us not forget that the Crests are ultimately to blame for this. Professor Goneril needed the Crest of Goneril to legitimize himself in his brother's place, and was prepared to do anything to defend it."

"I suppose that is true," Dimitri says. "Still, I am not so certain the fault lies with Crests as much as the conduct of those who have them."

Edelgard's giving him a rough time, so I decide to help him out—even if I think she's right here. "That's not wrong, but there's more to it," I say. "It's about how everyone perceives people with a Crest—what being noble-born lets you get away with. What a twisted world we must live in if that man thought his best shot in life was to murder his half-brother and steal his whole entire life—his identity, his status, Crest included."

Dimitri gives a weak smile. I doubt he was convinced. "I understand what you mean," he says. He shakes his head. "We've gotten quite a bit off course, haven't we? I apologize."

"There's no need to," I say, before Edelgard and Claude jump on him again. "No one got hurt from a little talking. It just shows you're all passionate about what you believe in. And before you say sorry again, there's no need to apologize for cooperating with Catherine and the others. I know you were just trying to help."

"Thank you," Dimitri says. "I ought to be going now. Edelgard, Claude—I will see you soon, of course. And I have no doubt I will run into you again sooner or later, Harrison."

Dimitri gives a short bow and departs, and I once again find myself trying to head off the awkwardness.

"Well, now that it's just the three of us," I begin, "I really, truly can't thank you enough for what you've done. You both know that already, but—I just don't know what else I can say. I owe you both everything, so, if there's anything I can do for you in my very limited capacity, please, let me know."

"You owe me nothing," Edelgard says. "The only reward I sought was the delivery of justice—proper justice—and I have seen it through."

"Well, if Her Justliness is willing to leave it on the table, I'll just jot your name down in my big book of favors," Claude says with a grin.

I get that he's joking, but I am crystal clear on the fact that either of them—most likely both—will eventually tap that debt some way or another. But the fact that I owe them my life is the honest truth, and I'm not trying to be an ungrateful asshole with the people who saved me, whatever their true motivations for getting involved are.

"Hey Edie!" a voice calls out. Dorothea approaches our little group, acknowledging us with a wave. "And hello there, Claude."

"Hello, Dorothea," Edelgard says.

Dorothea turns to me, smiling. "Congratulations on the verdict—and nice work to all of you on exposing that pig."

"You were at the trial?" I ask.

"No, but Manuela gave me the gist," she replies. "She told me you were all amazing!"

"Well, it's good to hear she has a positive outlook on her colleague admitting to multiple serious crimes and getting sentenced to death for it," Claude remarks.

"She never seemed like much of a fan of his to me," I reply.

"Not like I blame her," Dorothea says. "Self-absorbed noble? Or, well, wannabe noble, in this case. Anyway, I know the type all too well."

"Well, that's just par for the course, it seems," Claude replies. "Actually, I really should be getting a move on."

Dorothea covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was I interrupting?"

"No, no," Claude says with a wave. "My house is now without a professor, and Hilda's probably just found out her cousin's been dead for years, so chances are everyone's running around like headless chickens. Or headless deer, rather."

"I see," Edelgard replies.

"It's been a pleasure, comrades," Claude says, shooting finger guns at me and Edelgard—wait, is that a gesture in Fódlan, too? "Glad to fight alongside you for great justice. Until next time, yeah?"

"Hopefully there won't be a next time I'm accused of conspiracy—or any crime," I reply.

"Well if you get in another bind like that, you know who to call," Claude says.

"I don't answer questions without my defense team present," I reply. "See you around, Claude."

Edelgard and Dorothea bid their farewells to him as well, and he heads back across the bridge to the rest of the monastery.

Dorothea frowns and puts a hand on her hip. "Really, was it something I said?" She looks to me. "Did his sensitive noble feelings get hurt? By little old me?"

It seems like she expects an answer from me for some reason, so I shrug. "I couldn't tell you," I reply. "He's a hard guy to get a read on."

"He certainly seems so," Edelgard adds. "Though I can't imagine him taking much offense. Surely he realizes that the nobles of his own country, too, can be useless, if not downright treacherous."

Dorothea flashes a smile in Edelgard's direction. "You know, I never would've expected to hear a line like that from the crown princess."

"It makes sense," I reply. "She's going to have to deal with reining them in, after all."

Edelgard exhales and sets her shoulders back lower and looser. I don't know if it's the trial finally being over, or if she was agitated by Dimitri and Claude, but she seems far more comfortable just in the company of Dorothea and I. "You are not incorrect," she says.

Dorothea waves her hand. "Anyway, enough of this. You've just got to tell me everything that went down. I'm talking scene by scene," she says.

Edelgard laughs softly, and is about to start saying something, but my stomach rumbles loudly, interrupting her.

"Sorry," I offer weakly.

"Oh! You both probably haven't eaten anything all day!" Dorothea says. "Let's fix that, shall we? You can tell me all about it at the dining hall."

Edelgard nods. "I would be glad to join you."

"I would, too," I reply, "but the Archbishop told me a while ago not to interfere with the students' work. I don't want to get on her bad side again."

"I understand, but I fail to see how this is interfering," Edelgard replies. "After all, sharing a meal is hardly an academic endeavor."

"What Edie said," Dorothea adds. "And besides, I'm inviting you. I think that makes it better somehow, right?"

"Of course, you need not join us if you would prefer not to," Edelgard says.

I take a moment to think about it. Dorothea has no deeper motive here. I think she just likes having a commoner friend. And as for Edelgard, well, that's the whole mystery, isn't it? Maybe she's just trying to get on my good side—she probably really wants to know the truth about me—but she wants me alive, and is willing to take action to back up that principle. That's more than I could say for several other people this morning. So the least I can do is be friendly to her, right?

I sigh. "Well, alright. I guess it couldn't hurt."

My late-lunch/early-dinner with Dorothea and Edelgard is pleasant enough, actually. Social butterfly that she is, Dorothea takes control of the conversation. I am—and apparently Edelgard is as well—all too happy to give it to her. She wants that play-by-play of the trial, so we oblige. She revels in hearing about "Edie's" dramatic stands and takes quite the dose of schadenfreude at our recounting of former-Professor Goneril's demise.

"There's just one thing that's bothering me, though," Dorothea says. "The situation with your blood. I mean, what's that all about? Don't tell me you're the long-lost heir of some time-forgotten house, or something equally melodramatic."

I almost want to wait for Edelgard to jump in, but she doesn't, only looking at me intently.

I laugh nervously and shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. As far as I'm aware, that isn't the case. But whatever's going on, Professor Hanneman wants to get to the bottom of it."

I'm certain it has something to do with being from Earth, but any lead I might have ends there. I don't have a Crest, but how is there more than one way to not have a Crest? I just don't get it, but I can't get into it with Edelgard and Dorothea right now.

"Do you?" Edelgard asks.

"I mean, it's an interesting puzzle," I reply. "But it doesn't really affect my life, does it? Other than, you know, being the decisive piece of evidence that absolves me of false charges."

Dorothea shrugs. "Fair enough," she says. "Well, it's a refreshing attitude to have on a Crest, or not having one."

I nod. "Really, if it wasn't for Hanneman being so insistent, I would not have known or really cared about this little—" I struggle for the right word. "Quirk. That's all it is, anyway, at the end of the day, right?"

Yeah, a little quirk. Like being left-handed (which I am) or born with six fingers (which I was not) or having a completely different blood type than any other human known to medical science in this world: you know, just-quirky-things.

I don't think Dorothea was super interested in it anyway, since she drops the topic pretty quickly after that. As we wrap up the story and the meal, Edelgard mentions once again that she wonders if Jeritza will be promoted, and what the fate of the Remire Village trip will be. Neither Dorothea nor I know the answers to that question, but I can't help but wonder how that bodes for Byleth's future.

Dorothea says she's going to turn in early given that classes are starting again tomorrow, and bids us goodnight with something like a mock curtsy. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow, Edie," she says. "And I'll see you around as well, Harrie."

Somehow I can hear her say "Harrie" as opposed to "Harry." And I don't really like being called Harry—I haven't since I was a kid. When you're in elementary school, have glasses, and your name is Harrison, you are bound to be called Harry Potter, and I resented it. But as I got older I learned to give in when it came to some of my friends—and I need friends here. So I relent.

"I get a nickname now?" I asked. "I'm touched."

"Well, I give all my friends nicknames. Except Petra—I haven't come up with one for her just yet." I must be making a face because Dorothea holds up a finger and continues. "And before you say anything—yes, you're my friend now. Edie seems to think you're alright, and besides, us commoners need to stick together."

I look over at Edelgard. She seems a bit stiffer for some reason—maybe she's not used to Edie yet—but I nod. "Otherwise, you know what happens..." I hold up a hand to my neck, mimicking a slicing motion.

Dorothea laughs and says goodnight before leaving.

Edelgard and I are putting away the cutlery, she asks me something. "May I trouble you for a moment longer?"

"I didn't realize I was that fun to hang out with," I reply. "But sure. What's up?"

"I'd like to speak to you privately," she says. "There are still unanswered questions from today's trial."

Something drops in my stomach. We were getting along so well, and she's going to press more on where I'm from and who I am, isn't she? Especially with the blood stuff out in the open, and now that I owe her a favor, too.

"I'll do my best to help you answer them."

The two move to the same secluded location they had met at earlier. Edelgard composes herself in preparation for the conversation. She does not look forward to pressuring Harrison further—especially when he has already been through such tribulations today—but the Flame Emperor needs to know where this new figure stands. If he is a potential ally, then all she can hope is that he is impressed by her resolve—and if he is an enemy lying in wait, that he is daunted by it.

"I prefer to speak in no uncertain terms," Edelgard begins. "Dorothea may be ready to dismiss the result of that Crest analysis as a quirk, but I am not so convinced."

Harrison says nothing, only looking at her intently. He nods slightly.

She continues. "Are you aware of the significance of that result?"

He pauses for a moment before speaking. "Are you?"

Edelgard knows she just asked a rhetorical question, but is caught off guard anyway. "Not in literal terms, no," she says. It isn't untrue, after all. "I will leave that for the Professor to investigate. But I cannot help but wonder if it is related to your origins."

Harrison shakes his head. "I told you this already. Morfis, remember?" he says. "Whether or not it's related to the Crest, or lack thereof, I couldn't say. Give Hanneman some time, and I'm sure he'll crack the case."

He doesn't sound particularly enthusiastic about the prospect. Is there some secret he wishes to preserve?

"Are you still sticking to that story?" she asks.

"If it changes, you'll be the first to know."

Edelgard suppresses a chuckle. The cheek! "I hope you mean that. I told you I intend to uncover the truth, yes? Well, I am not done with uncovering the truth of who you are."

He folds his arms and sighs. "Look, Edelgard—why do you care so much? Am I a threat to you? I—I can't even cast magic."

"You can't?" she asks. Could that be related as well?

"Professor Hanneman just taught me to pull up the circle. We haven't made it do anything yet," he explains.

Or not. "I see. Still, if I was truly concerned you were a threat, I may not have gone to such lengths to keep you alive."

Harrison nods. "In that case, I appreciate you not thinking I'm a threat, then."

She continues. "Let me be frank. I have reason to doubt your Morfis story. You speak fluent Standard Adrestrian. Your accent and diction reflect the commoners of cities such as Enbarr"—though not perfectly "—and you refuse to venture a word of another language. The obvious conclusion would be that you are from Fódlan."

His brow furrows at that. Anxiety at being found out, or confusion? Edelgard can't tell, but she must press on.

"But why would you hide that? And it cannot explain how you are clearly educated, yet lack a certain cultural understanding—or your strange Crest result." Edelgard exhales. "I just want to understand, Harrison. I want to understand who you are and what you are doing here."

He sighs as well. "I guess it really didn't take long after all, huh?" he asks. "Is this what you were really after the whole time?"

"No. I know that defending you was the right thing to do," she says, and she means it. "I know it might seem hard to believe—"

"I believe you," he replies. He looks away for a moment, then back at her. "So I hope I can trust you with this, but I need to hear you say it first. Can I trust you not to tell anyone else?"

Edelgard nods. "I won't tell a soul."

Harrison takes another deep breath, then begins. "I know this is going to sound crazy, and you probably won't believe me, either, but this is the truth. I don't know how I got here, honestly. I woke up in a field and Seteth and Flayn found me. I'm not from Fódlan, or Morfis. I'm from a country far away—one you've never heard of, and I've never heard of Fódlan or any of these places before I came here."

Edelgard raises a skeptical eyebrow. "So what country do you hail from, then?"

"The United States of America," he replies.

She blinks, incredulous. Is he trying an even more thinly-veiled lie? Making up countries with absurd names?

"Suppose this United States of America exists—yet you speak, read, and write fluent Adrestian."

"Well, where I'm from, it's called English, actually."

She cocks her head. "Not… American?"

A ghost of a smile appears on his face. "That's a long story, and I don't think we have time for it." He shakes his head. "Anyway, I know you're probably thinking I'm a lunatic, but it's the truth. Where I'm from, there isn't magic, or pegasi, or people with naturally green, blue, purple hair. Nobody has any kind of superpowers in their blood, either. So imagine what I must have thought when Seteth and Flayn found me. The only conclusion I could draw was that I was somehow in some kind of other world."

A world without magic—a world without Crests. Could Edelgard believe such a thing? She wants to. Harrison's face and voice betray nervousness, but that would be expected whether he was telling the truth or not.

"Forgive me, but I have several—honestly, quite a bit more than several—questions," she says. It's time to put his story to the test.

"Fire away."

"First of all, who else knows of this besides myself?"

"Just Seteth and Flayn," he says. Really? Something doesn't seem right with this story.

"And they offered you a job at the monastery?" The Flame Emperor replies.

"Seteth was not in favor of it," he says. "But Flayn took pity on me, I guess. He didn't want to upset her, so he gave in. To make both of our lives easier, we made up the Morfis story to avoid these sorts of probing questions—and explain those gaps in my knowledge."

He had enough trust in the Holy Chamberlain to tell him this story? If Harrison is telling the truth now, then it almost makes sense—he would have no other recourse but to trust in these complete strangers. And it explains why Seteth was using his leverage to grant Harrison the trial and the privilege of having Edelgard as his advocate. If Flayn did have some attachment to Harrison, it follows that Seteth would act within reason to keep him alive—or give him his day in court, at the very least. But all the same, Seteth himself may have harbored some suspicion that Harrison was guilty, until the defense team—the three of them as a united front—proved otherwise.

"So, this United States of America, was it?" she begins. "Tell me more about it, if you don't mind. You said there was no magic? No pegasi? How would people heal wounds, or travel over rough terrain easily?"

"No magic, no pegasi, no wyverns," he says. "We only got by with technology. People built machines that burn fuel to travel over long distances, or fly through the air. And for healing, we only have medicine, drugs, surgery—that's more advanced than what's around here, to be honest. But healing magic is more miraculous, you know?"

Edelgard bristles at the mention of advanced surgery. It seems she can't even hide her aversion to such things.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks.

She furrows her brow. Could this be a ploy to taunt her by her dear uncle—the beast who wears his skin? Is everything he's saying merely to torment her? Technology, surgery—perhaps they knew of her ambitions to end the Crest system as well, that's why—

His mouth drops as if he's realized the effect he's had on her. "Um, I'm sorry if I've—confused you," he says, his voice halting and unsure. If he is an actor, he is a good one—better than Solon or Thales. "Let's move on for now. We can come back to that later if you want."

"Right," she says breathlessly. There's no sense in giving away her suspicions too quickly. "What was your real occupation before you came here?"

"A student, like you," he replies. Oh, come now.

"And what did you study?"

"Science, to put it as simply as possible," he says. "You might know it better as natural philosophy." He puts a hand on the back of his neck. "That's how I hit it off with Professor Hanneman. He starts telling me a little about how Crests work, and before you know it we're talking experimental design."

Harrison's relationship with the professor muddies the waters even further. Those Who Slither in the Dark did not concern themselves with Hanneman's work in the least. Not that Solon sought to avoid him, but Edelgard's conversations with her unscrupulous allies gave her the impression that they considered Hanneman's efforts primitive, unsophisticated. As if butchering children for sick experiments is the height of sophistication!

He takes a deep breath and meets her eyes. She wants to look away, but doesn't. "Look, I—I know it's all a lot to take in, and I can tell it's agitating you. So I won't bother you with more details now."

She just nods.

Harrison continues. "And when you take it all in so far, I don't blame you if you don't believe me. But I've got to know—do you? Can you?"

Can she? Edelgard can see that there is evidence in favor of believing his story, however strange it is. It just causes so many things to line up, so many strange contradictions to be explained—though not, of course, the linguistic one. And her associates have kept her and Hubert apprised of their activities at the monastery so far—would they have reason to plant Harrison here just to toy with her? It would harm their mutual goals so early on, as Harrison has drawn much undue attention from the Church leadership onto himself. No, he is intelligent and tries to be careful, but lacks the precision of a hardened professional.

But what if it is a plan of a reckoning she cannot understand? Can she afford to be wrong about him?

No. There is too much at stake for her to accept everything he is saying at face value.

"I am undecided," the Flame Emperor says.

"Undecided," he repeats.

"Do you not use that word where you are from? It means I have yet to make up my mind."

"I know what undecided means, I just—" he shakes his head. "Forget it. This was a mistake."

Something in the sincerity of his words, how plain his frustration and despondency is, pierces through to Edelgard. She must consider if he is lying, but she cannot ignore what it means if he is telling the truth—that he is alone, in an unfamiliar place, doing the bidding of others, his old life and all the people he once cared about suddenly taken from him. She knows that feeling—not that she would tell him such in so many words.

She takes a breath. Intentionally, Edelgard softens her tone. "I hope you do not feel that way," she says gently, as her lilac eyes meet his green. "I know that trusting in others is not easy. You took a great risk in trusting me with your defense today. And it means more than I can say that you did so." She puts a gloved hand over her chest. "Not only that, together, we were able to prove you innocent and find the real culprit when the Church was ready to condemn you—but that you accepted my aid and didn't hold back until we proved victorious."

He looks away. "I want to believe I can trust you, Edelgard. But how can I do that, if when I tell you the honest truth, you can't trust me?"

"And I want to believe you as well, but…" she sighs again. "You lied to me before. I understand why, but who is to say that this isn't a lie as well?"

He bites his lip. "I'm sorry, Edelgard. The truth—it would have been too much to come out swinging with that. You wouldn't have believed me then, would you? And I get it if you don't believe me now. It's a lot to take in and you've got a lot of factors to weigh, being the Imperial heir and all.

"I get that believing in me isn't easy. So really, thank you for stepping up to defend me when the whole system was stacked against me," he says. "I know you're smart—brilliant—and I know you wouldn't do that unless you really believed I was innocent. So, just like you know I can trust you, I know you can, to an extent, trust me. We've already done it."

Harrison's clever—using her own words back at her like that!

"With the caveat of having a knife at your throat," she rebuts.

"So it should be easier without one."

Edelgard can't help but laugh. "A point well taken. But now that the knife is no longer leveled at your throat, we can return to this impasse at our leisure, yes? This probably isn't going anywhere further, not now."

"That much is clear, yeah," he replies, and yawns. "Sorry. You're not putting me to sleep, it's just—been a long few days—"

"It has," she says. "I apologize for taking your time. You should go and rest."

"No need to apologize. But that sounds good to me," he says. "You should rest, too, ace advocate. You've worked hard yourself."

As Harrison departs for the evening, she thinks on what he has said. Edelgard will have to reserve her judgement for now. She wants to like Harrison, to trust him—at least as much as she could trust anyone. She wants to believe in his fantastical stories about a world with no Crests, to believe that such a world could exist. And his words with Dimitri and Claude, and with Dorothea, showed that he can plainly see the broken nature of the world they live in. Surely, in the end, he would understand Edelgard's cause, no? But as much as she wants to reach out her hand to him, she cannot afford that risk.

That is no reason to ignore or antagonize him, naturally—she could only learn more by continuing to remain on at least civil terms with him. And she does find him fascinating, she has to admit. But the moment it becomes necessary, the Flame Emperor will stand ready to eliminate a threat, no matter her personal feelings.

When Edelgard leaves, I just put my head in my hands and take a moment to breathe before heading back to my room.

I told her, and she knows. What choice did I have? She's too damn smart to leave me alone now, and I'm not smart enough to give her a reason to ignore me. The thing is, I don't even hate her—it's nice to have people take a genuine interest in who I am, or it would be if the stakes weren't so goddamn high. Lying would just get me into a more precarious position considering her ability to see through my half-assed attempts at deception. I just hope giving her the truth is enough to convince her that I'm no threat to her. I could have gone about it better: certainly, my mention of medicine and technology is ringing Slitherer alarm bells in that keen mind of hers. But does she doubt me more than she lets on?

I suppose since I'm alive, she can't think I'm too dangerous.

I get to my room and look around. They were kind enough to return the books I got from Hanneman, but what remained of my Earth belongings has been removed—seized by Catherine and/or destroyed by Seteth, no doubt, with one sole exception: my leather bomber jacket. I doubt the "made in the USA" tag on the A-2 will be enough to convince Edelgard that I'm not bullshitting, but it's nice to know it's here. I paid good money for it, after all.

That's all I have the energy to think about before I hit the cot like a sack of bricks, the cumulative stress of the past 36 or so hours finally crashing down on me.

Shamir studies Cyril's stance as he aims the bow. His posture is too rigid, too taut, and she can already tell his aim is off. As he looses, the arrow sails past the target and bounces off the stone wall of the training ground with an unsatisfying clink. Another miss.

"I don't know what it is," Cyril says. "I just don't have it today, huh?"

Shamir shakes her head. "You're distracted. If you keep this up, we'll have to go back to the stick and string." She doesn't mean it, of course.

Cyril groans as he nocks another arrow. "Anything but that. I'll focus, yeah?" Shamir studies him as he aims. An attempt at focusing is made, but it proves not enough when the boy looses his arrow and it's another wide miss.

"I've seen enough," Shamir says, with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Whatever's on your mind, spit it out. A soldier can't let their emotions get in the way of getting the job done."

He sighs. "It's that trial today." Cyril puts down the bow and turns to her. "Before everything that happened—did ya think Harrison did it? That he was a bad guy, that he wanted to hurt Lady Rhea?"

It figures Cyril would worry about such things. Shamir folds her arms. "I don't get paid to think," she says. "Not about that. And neither do you."

"But ya had to have thought something," he replies. "I mean, Catherine seemed so dead-set on it, yeah? That he was definitely guilty."

When it comes to protecting Rhea, Catherine always takes the stance of having heads roll first and asking questions later. Not that Shamir thought that approach was always the wrong one—but it wasn't warranted here. Still, she can't bring herself to say as much to the boy.

"The evidence she gathered seemed to point against him at first, that's for sure," she says.

"But he didn't do it," Cyril rebuts. "He and Claude and Edelgard—and the other professors—they proved it. You know I helped, too. But Catherine was ready to kill him right up until Goneril 'fessed up."

"Go on."

Cyril inhales sharply. "The thing I keep wondering is… Lady Rhea was in charge of it all, right? Do ya think she was ready to have Harrison killed, too?"

"She's had people executed for far less," Shamir says. It's true, after all.

"But he didn't do anything."

And now the boy is beginning to realize—maybe for the first time ever—the dirtiness of the organization he works for. Not that the Church is any worse than the nobles of Fódlan, or the bureaucrats and gentry of Dagda. It's the filth that people like her get paid to wade through, after all.

"And it was proven in a lawful tribunal presided over by the Archbishop. The true culprit was caught. Is there more one could ask for?"

Cyril shrugs. "I mean, I guess not." His confused expression gives way to a slight smile. "I think this is one reason why it's good that Lady Rhea was running things. She made the right decision in the end. And that's what's important, yeah?"

Shamir doesn't have it in her to say anything more. Better for Cyril to let him hang on to his devotion to Rhea. She longs for the days when she had something—someone—to be so attached to.

"You're right."

Without prompting, he nocks another arrow, aims, and looses. It's a clean hit.

Cyril turns back to her and nods. "Thanks, Shamir."

Apparently Cyril got the memo that Seteth gave me the day off, since he doesn't show up to collect me. Fine by me. I'm all too happy to take a leisurely morning: sleep in a bit longer, take a bath, go for a nice walk. After classes are done for the day, I head to Hanneman's office.

Along the way, out by the training fields, I run into a familiar figure clad in silver armor. Catherine brushes a stray lock of hair away from her face, and her blue eyes stare into me.

My chest clenches and I stop dead in my tracks. Oh, God. I can't speak to her—not after everything. This woman tried to have me executed! And the worst part is, she still could do so, at any time, for literally any reason!

She musters up an awkward smile. "Oh, hey there," she says.

"Hi, Catherine," I reply. The words leave my lips with a mechanical coldness. It's the best I can do not to scream.

"Um, well," she says. "Do you have a minute?"

"Is there something you need?" I ask. Please say no. I don't want to spend another moment in your presence.

"Not exactly," Catherine replies. "Look. I want to clear some things up, okay?"

I take a deep breath. "Okay. What is it?"

"About that trial," she says, and folds her arms. "I know I was wrong about you. But you've got to understand, none of this was personal. I do what I have to to defend Lady Rhea and the Church. Sometimes mistakes get made, you know." She shakes her head. "But in the end, I want to thank you for helping us catch the real culprit. I'm glad that things worked out the way they did. No hard feelings on either side, right?"

I get that she's trying, but somehow, I find myself less than moved.

"Is this an apology? Do you want me to forgive you?"

"I guess?" She shrugs. "Forgive me or don't. That's up to you."

I don't say anything.

"Let me tell you what," Catherine says, reaching into her pocket. I flinch as she moves towards me with surprising speed and presses something into my hand. "Here's a few silver. Buy yourself some drinks down at the tavern, yeah? You've earned a night of relaxation after what you've been through."

She walks off, and I feel a pit in my stomach. She really doesn't get it, does she? Not that I should be surprised. In her book, nothing's wrong as long as the real criminal gets caught and Rhea is safe. The process, or the collateral damage, is irrelevant.

Maybe I'm not giving her enough credit—maybe she's genuinely trying to make amends and doesn't know how. But I don't think she's learned a damn thing.

I don't want to be her friend. I don't even want the goddamn silver.

I abandon my plan of going to see Hanneman and just find a quiet place to be alone. My head starts racing and I just put one foot in front of the other till I end up in a secluded area by the outskirts of the monastery—there's a fountain with a statue of Saint Seiros in the center, divine sword and shield in hand. I've seen this place on my rounds with Cyril, but I don't remember it from the game. No one's around, so it seems as good as any other.

I sit down by the fountain and look up at the stone statue. This is the woman who could have sentenced me to death if it wasn't for a miracle. Her features seem cold and imposing, and staring at her face too long makes me feel even more sick, so I look down. Through the crystal-clear water I can make out hundreds of coins—mostly brass and silver, with a handful in a white-gold hue and almost none of true gold.

I take out the silver coins Catherine gave me. Drachms, I remember. They all have Saint Seiros depicted on one side, with a dragon on the other, the same as on the flags of the Knights—the Immaculate One, no doubt. God, I just can't escape her.

I want to throw the coins in the fountain. I don't want to accept Catherine's non-apology apology. I don't want to deal with this fucked-up world where I can almost get executed for doing nothing. No one would even care if I died! Flayn might, but even so, I represent trouble for her, since I know that she and Seteth were in the Holy Tomb. And Edelgard, Claude, Hanneman… they're just interested in what I am, what I mean for them. And we're like a week away from Byleth showing up, and then shit is going to really get dangerous. If this is place is like a wishing well, then maybe I can get my wish to go the fuck home or at least not die be granted. Or maybe, dying is easier! Who the fuck knows!

Tears well up in the corner of my eyes.

"Hey, Harrie," a voice calls out. Well, with that, it's a dead giveaway.

I don't say anything as Dorothea approaches. I just wanted to be alone, goddamnit. And I don't want my new "friend" to see me like this. If she's looking for some friendly, lighthearted conversation, I can't provide that. I'm just going to rain on her parade.

When she sees me, hunched over by the fountain, dabbing at tears in my eyes with my hands, she pauses for a moment. There's a tense moment of eye contact between us. I think she might turn around, but she doesn't. She only comes closer, twirling a lock of brown hair around her finger before she speaks.

"Harrie…" she says, gentler this time. "Are you okay?"

I want to say yes, but she knows it's a lie and I know it's a lie. The truth rises from deep within, emerging between hitched breaths.

"I don't think so."

Slowly, gracefully, Dorothea steps towards me, and takes a seat next to me.

"I'm here to listen if you want to talk," she says, giving me a sad smile.

Does Dorothea have some ulterior motive for doing this? I can't think of any. God, it's exhausting that I have to constantly run these calculations. I just want a break from having to watch what I say and how I act.

And that's when I realize—she of all people would get what it's like to be as powerless as I am. So I take a look around this little fountain courtyard, and it's still empty, save the two of us.

"I think I'd like that for a little bit," I reply. "If you don't mind."

Dorothea nods. I take a deep breath. It feels wrong to immediately vent about Catherine, but I say this: "After yesterday, I thought I could turn around and everything would be fine. I know it's hard to be a commoner, I know the odds are stacked against us, but I thought I could pretend for just a little bit—just one day—that things would go back to normal, and I could go back to mopping floors for pocket change, and be happy about it."

I look up at the statue of Seiros as I continue.

"And maybe they will for everyone else. But what I realize is they won't for me—actually, what I realize is that they never were okay. And I've known that for a while, but I thought if I just kept my head down, if I just did my job, it would somehow work out for me. But that was ridiculous." I turn to her.

"You're right, Harrie. Things never were okay," she says, nodding. "Not for people like us." She sighs. "I know the last thing you probably want to hear right now is me blathering away, but…"

"But?" I ask.

"I think I know a thing or two about what it's like," Dorothea says. "What it's like to be lost and alone and treated like dirt."

"I'm here to listen if you want to talk," I reply. If she feels comfortable opening up to me about her past, then by all means, she can.

She smiles, and I notice it's different than how I've seen her before. It's not that the friendly, flirty Dorothea isn't genuine, but this is something else, something more vulnerable. But the smile fades as she looks down at the water in the fountain.

"Before I joined the opera, I was an orphan living on the streets of Enbarr," she says. "The nobles in the capital treated me like dirt on their shoes. Worse, actually. Dirt only has to be seen, not heard."

She looks up at the statue.

"When I saw you looking up at this statue—when I saw the look in your eyes, it reminded me of those days. In the finer districts of Enbarr, there are dozens of fountains with ornate statues of the Saints, old Emperors, and so on." She frowns. "I remember looking up at them with that same hopelessness. Here I was, sleeping in alleys and never sure when or if I would eat again, while the noble brats would toss coins in the water like they were rocks. Did they want the Goddess to grant them wishes? What the hell could they have to wish for?"

I look down guiltily at the silver coins in my hand.

"Were you about to do that too?" she asks. "Wait, those are silver. Would you even earn those..."

"Catherine gave them to me," I blurt out. The words fall out quickly, too quickly. "She tried to have me killed and then acted like everything's just fine now, with a slap on the back and beer money to fix it all up. I—I can't do it. I don't want her money."

"What a joke. Figures," Dorothea says bitterly. "Don't get rid of those coins, Harrie. Keep them. Better in your pocket than hers. If you don't want to spend them on yourself, well, you never know when you'll meet someone who needs them even more than you."

I nod slowly, and put the coins back in my pocket. "You're right," I reply, and sigh. "I wasn't even thinking of them like that. I just wanted to get rid of it as soon as I could." I glance down at the silver in my hand. The pure metal gleams in the sunlight, but in my hands— "They feel dirty. Contaminated."

Dorothea sighs and, for just a moment, closes her eyes. Her proud demeanor fades a second, and her shoulders shrink away ever so slightly. For that brief moment, she appears not as the star diva, but a scared girl, not much younger than me, trying to curl up and hide herself from the world. Not unlike me at all.

"Pride is all well and good, but we don't always get a choice about where our next meal comes from, or about what we have to do to get it. We do what we have to in order to survive," she murmurs. I can't shake the feeling she's directing that at herself as much as she is at me.

"I understand," I reply. "I guess it just feels like at the end of the day, there's only so much I can do."

Dorothea nods slowly, resuming her typical confident posture in the blink of an eye. "Yes, exactly," she says, looking back at me. "The thing is, Harrie, the people who can really do something—most of them don't get it, or don't care. They won't understand us and what we deal with…"

She trails off, sighing. "Though maybe some of them are different. I mean, look at Edie." She laughs, her eyes bright. "You heard her loud and clear. She was ready to step right in when the Church's injustice was going more than too far. And she's always talking about how useless the nobles can be, and how she values talented commoners."

"Like you," I reply.

Dorothea laughs. "I don't suppose singing and dancing is the kind of talent she's looking for," she says. "But seriously, she's one of the first nobles I've met in a long time who actually seems to care. Maybe, when she's Emperor—I don't know, Harrie. I don't know."

I must make some kind of face because she abruptly stops.

"Got a problem with Edie?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No, no, not a problem," I stammer out. "Actually, I wonder if she's got a problem with me. I can't get a read on what she wants with me." Or, according to her, she can't get a read on me, either.

Dorothea sighs. "She's a complicated girl, that's for sure. But she must find you interesting."

"I try not to be interesting," I reply. "That's what got me in this situation."

She laughs. "Well, whenever there are changes like this, it isn't always all good or bad," she says. "When I got discovered by the opera, it was better than living on the streets, but it was complicated in a whole different way. Same thing here at the Academy. Things are more complicated now, but you've come this far and survived, haven't you?"

"Yeah," I reply. "And so have you."

Dorothea nods. "Anyway, Harrie," she says, "feeling better?"

I take a deep breath and muster up a smile, which she returns.

"I think so."

For now, I think I can be.

A/N: Thank you all for being patient for this chapter, and thanks for all the support! I'm really glad to hear the overwhelming positive reaction to the trial sequence. It was a ton of fun to write, and I knew I was taking a risk, but it's awesome to see it pay off for everyone. Thanks as always to TDB for beta reading as well as RedXEagl3 and DestructionDragon360 for a few last-minute sanity checks. Your out-of-context TDB quote for today is "There's nothing lewd about hygiene." And as always, thanks to everyone for the reviews, favorites, and follows!

Come hang out on our Discord server with TDB and Syn and me: discord . gg / A27Ngyj (remove spaces). I can also be found occasionally at the Fanfiction Treehouse server, discord . gg / 9XG3U7a - Hope to see you guys around!

Mundatorem - Thanks for the review! I'm glad you were surprised!

Howling Armadillo - Honestly, that means a lot. If it holds up despite knowing the outcome, that means it's good stuff. Thanks a lot!

VGBlackwing - I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for the review!

eseer - Interesting theory, but I can't comment further than that.

DestructionDragon360 - Thank you so much! And yes, while we are so close to the main plot, we'll just have to wait a biiit longer while the loose ends wrap themselves up.

Axel363402 - You'll have to wait for just a bit longer to find out about Byleth! And as for pairings, I'm not opposed to them at all, but I'm prepared to do what's best for the overall narrative. So, probably, but not certainly. As for which pairings... well, I'm not sure on that yet!

Crowbars357 - That it did. Thanks for the review!

Atiler - Thank you so much!

Swolfie - Haha, thank you so much! For some reason, my mind defaulted to the Apollo Justice soundtrack first - though for some reason I'm attached to the idea of Athena's objection theme as being Edelgard's. Maybe it's the "Revolutionnaire" in the title? Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing!

Dragonmaster150 - I'm glad you enjoyed it so much! Thanks!

Guest since ch1 - Interesting predictions! Yeah, I agree that Harrison and Catherine probably won't be on the best of terms, at least not right away. Thanks for the review!

Guest - That's a very good point. Catherine indeed only cares about protecting Rhea. Who else might get hurt in the process is a secondary concern.

TheStrangerthatCameFromNowhere - Thanks for the review!

Everpeach - I can't make the Ace Attorney reference TOO on the nose, can I? Thanks for the review!

FiggyCarMust - Thank you very much!

AxelMagnus - Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!

Rationalism - Thank you for the review! Interesting prediction regarding Fake!Goneril.

OtaconGamer777 - I know it wasn't perfect, but honestly, from a writer's perspective, I'm very satisfied with how it came together - there were a lot of potential failure points. Glad you enjoyed it too!

patattack - Thank you so much!

Shadowblade02 - Thanks a lot! Glad you enjoyed it!

fieryfoxpaws - Ah, that would be too easy, don't you think? Thanks for the review!

DemonRaily - Interesting thought, but not quite! Glad you enjoyed the chapter.

esonic1 - Well, capital punishment is a pretty complex moral issue, and something I don't really want to or feel qualified to dive into here. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter in spite of this.

Takedo - The whole thing was kind of an Ace Attorney homage, but I'm glad you enjoyed it!

V01dSw0rd - To be honest, I don't know how this is relevant.

DOOT76 - You certainly may be right! Thanks for the review.

Stormtide Leviathan - Thanks a lot! I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Cole Phelps - Haha, she's one of my favorite characters to write. Thanks for the review!

Dalan777 - I'm curious what you think of Harrison and Catherine after this chapter. Thanks a lot!

Mr. War - Well, we've discussed this over PM and discord, so all I'll say is, thank you for the review!

Firefly - I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! It was a lot of fun to make all those facts pay off in the final confrontation, and to have Edelgard, Harrison and Claude all cooperate to pull off the victory, so I'm really happy to hear you honed in on those aspects! Thanks a lot!

Cavik - Well, when that system creates outcomes like this... can you blame her? Haha. Thanks for the review!

Ghep - Thanks for the detailed review! I definitely agree that the pacing would be best for a single-sitting read, but that's just not how I published it. Future readers should be good to go, though.

Chcm97 - Thank you so much! I was also really excited for the worldbuilding and character development of this chapter, as well as making good on a lot of setups from the first mini-arc of the story.

Bomg - You'll have to be a bit more patient for Byleth, but I promise we're almost at Plot!

Rebiele - Thank you! Like I've said with other reviews, this was definitely an intentional homage to Ace Attorney, so I'm glad it felt like a crossover but worked out well!

Steelrain66 - Well, they let him go, yeah? And Catherine gave him some spare change. So that's where he's at. Thank you so much for the review and glad you enjoyed it!

mad thought - Thank you so much!

Guest - Wow! That's amazing to hear, since Case 1-4 is definitely one of the best! Thank you so much!

Jeptwin - Thanks as always for the very detailed reviews! Interesting predictions - I wonder what you make of how the fallout from the trial has been unfolding!

Quzix - That was definitely part of the reason why I wanted to write this! It was a great chance to flesh out how the legal system works here. Thank you so much!

craigprime - I'm flattered to hear that my homage to Ace Attorney was successful! I love the series so it's wonderful to know that I could hope to give other people the same experience that those games give me!

DaPylot - Well, you sure hit that nail on the head. Happy to hear you enjoyed the chapter!

Call Brig On Over - Interesting questions! Thanks for the review!

Ren4gade - You'll have to wait a bit longer for Byleth, but I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks!

Guest - Thanks a lot! Well, sooner or later, Harrisons' game knowledge may be relevant, though he doesn't have a lot of power to make decisions at the moment.

Scoolio - Thank you for the review! Glad you enjoyed it!

SHSLNothing - Thank you so much!

Heavenschor - Thanks for the review!

HiIExist - It's my homage to Ace Attorney, yeah. But I think it makes sense for and helps flesh out the characters and the world, while providing an interesting plot.

I Lost Civilization I - Well, perhaps "fun" isn't the word for it - but no doubt she was thoroughly satisfied doing what she believed was right. Thanks for the review!

Diamondfiend - Thanks a lot! Glad you enjoyed it!

Serafina Fairway - Thank you so much for the reviews! Edelgard is definitely a fascinating chapter... you may want to finish at least one route of the game first before reading the fic, though! Because I've got plenty of spoilery content here!

Nokraz - Never played an Ace Attorney game, you say? Well, if you enjoyed this sequence, you'd better get on, that, pronto. Some great legal misadventures await!

Yooo - Well, it's dramatic, but then, the whole chapter is. Plus "aberration" is a little reference to a great fic of the same name by my buddy RedXagle3.

Antex-The Legendary Zoroark - Thanks for reviewing and glad to see you again!