Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Byleth Eisner was a lady. She stands with a tall back and poised posture, dressed properly for the day no matter if she had planned to spend it about the house. With all of the polite air dictated by her class she nod her head, indicating to the detective for him to continue, although at this moment it was a short and jerking sort of motion.

“We have most of our men out questioning everyone that attended the ball,” Detective Rengeld insisted with a firm nod of his own, “asking for anything and everything anyone remembers about Miss Flayn Nabatean last night. Or anything otherwise strange that they witnessed.”

Were she at all like what was expected of girls Byleth would have taken a seat in the force of sheer shock hitting her. Instead her mind narrowed into a sharp point, any day to day thoughts or worries about the etiquette required of her in this situation  falling away in the background - although she could not recall ever being advised of how to act lady-like when one’s friend is missing and a Detective on the case is standing before you. Mixed with different scenarios were images of the girls smiling face, the sound of her laughter and her amazement. She had to be found. “Mercedes and I both said our goodbyes to her before we departed for home, and that was the last we saw of her. Was she last seen at the party, or had Mr. Nabatean seen her before retiring for the evening?”

Either he did not realize that her turning questioning onto him was strange or he did not mind - either way Byleth appreciated that the detective answered her at all. “Mr. Nabatean came to us late last night. Miss Flayn was nowhere to be found when he meant to leave the monastery, so he assumed she had grown tired and headed home alone. However when he reached their house he was told the servants had not seen her since she had left with Mr. Nabatean for the ball.”

A nod from Byleth as she took in the information. “And you waited until this morning to start the search in case she did eventually return home through the night.”

A bare look of confusion filtered into Detective Rengeld’s expression but he did not voice it as of yet. “That is correct. It was not easy to get Mr. Nabatean to leave last night, let me tell you. And he was back to our makeshift office bright and early.”

“Makeshift… Because your existing headquarters are still under construction?”

“That’s right. Caught us with our pants down is what everyone’s saying. Haven’t had the best reputation since then, I’m not too afraid to tell you miss…” Ah, now he caught himself. Rengeld shook himself out of it with a quick shift of his head and his shoulders - as if adding more bodily movement would rid him of the situation better. “But that is neither here nor there. If you think of anything, please do not hesitate to call on us.”

Whilst her mind was wheeling through all she had learned and still could guess Byleth led him to the door. “Of course Detective. I hope Flayn is soon found safe.”

A sigh as he placed his hat on his head and stepped out. His shoulders drooped in the release of air. This weighed on his mind heavily, as well as his heart by the look of his eyes. “Me too miss.”

As the door closed Jenny poked her head out of the kitchen door at the end of the hall. “Mrs. Foster was about to send me to ask if you and the detective would like some tea, but it looks like not. He was not here very long was he?”

Byleth turned from the door to face Jenny, but her eyes were not focused on her. They were far off - or perhaps more accurately they were hazed over as they looked inward. Surveying the map of facts and conjectures steadily building within her thoughts. “I am afraid not Jenny. Miss Flayn Nabatean, the girl whose entrance ball I attended last night, has gone missing.”

Now Jenny gave a proper gasp befitting the tragedy of it. “Oh that’s terrible. You suppose he would have spoken to your friend Miss Mercedes as well?”

“Him or one of his men,” Byleth said, her tone slowly tapering off in a brief further thought. When it was decided Byleth brought her head up, eyes clear now upon her kitchen maid’s face. “Jenny, could you please have Billy be ready to take a note for me?” Byleth asked. She would have a correspondence for her footman to take soon enough.

Things were looking up when Mercedes agreed to meet Byleth at a tea room that afternoon. Apparently hearing about the disappearance of their host was emotional enough an occurrence to warrant Mr. Ferguson’s allowance for such a meeting. Mercedes had been brief in her response about meeting to the affirmative, but Byleth could tell this was affecting her from the moment she stepped through the door of the agreed upon establishment. She immediately reached to hold Byleth’s hand in her lap when she took her seat, scooting her chair just close enough to do so. There was not even a glance at the tea and scones Byleth had already ordered for them. “Oh Byleth, this is simply awful. We only saw her last night - not half a day since we waved to her goodbye and promised to meet again soon.”

Comforting others was not Byleth’s most skilled trait, especially not physically. Her automatic reaction to any crisis was to help fix the problem rather than wade in the grief and anxiety of it. The best she could do now was rub the tops of Mercedes hands with her thumbs and simply nod. “I had assumed you would also be questioned. What did you tell them?”

A deep breath had to be taken before Mercedes began to speak less emotionally. “That the last time I saw her was when you and I left for the night. They asked if she had been acting at all strange - to which I said that I had not met her prior to make a proper judgment, but she was very energetic and kind the whole of the time we spent with her. Not at all like someone that was planning to runaway.” Mercedes stopped here to breathe, finally taking a sip of her tea and releasing a slightly calmed exhale after. She searched the teacup for answers whilst she thought. Her brows were furrowed in rememberance of it all - and confusion. She looked up at her friend again. “Do you think that’s what has happened, Byleth? That she left of her own accord?”

Mercedes expected her to have answers, and though they were not definite Byleth felt she had strong possibilities to offer. “I do not imagine that to be the case, no matter how frightening it is to think of the alternative,” she shook her head. “For starters, I find it hard to believe that she could have fled willingly under the nose of a brother such as Mr. Seteth. Flayn has grown up in the lap of luxury, and such girls are most unwilling to leave without bags of clothes and personal items, none of which would be particularly easy to get out of a house without servants noticing. The whole of the house would be waiting for their arrival home after the ball.”

As she nodded along Mercedes chewed on a scone. When she was finished she continued the thought. “And if you say she is unlikely to run with only the clothes on her back, then leaving straight from the ball would not make sense… but then how could she be taken? There were so many people at the ball, my goodness the monastery is being used by the police at the moment. One would hope such an environment would be the last place a girl need fear abduction.”

One would hope. Byleth placed her cup in it’s saucer. There were a few remaining specks of leaves in the bottom, creating a chaotic pattern of black and brown against the pristine white china of the cup. The teabag had likely torn. “She never reached her home, and something like an attack on her carriage would have been reported by now. This means she was somehow abducted from the monastery itself, or…”

A slow lean forward in her chair. “Or?”

“Or she never left.”

Mercedes could not believe it. “What do you mean?”

“Would you like to go back to the monastery with me, Mercedes?” There was the barest quirk of a grin at Byleth’s lips. Her shoulders squared off and her back heightened itself as she faced Mercedes with her offer. “As soon as we are finished here? Perhaps we can find some clues ourselves.”

But her friend was hesitant. Mercedes finished off another scone before she looked at Byleth sidelong. “Would we not get in the way of the police investigation?”

“Not if we say Father Tomas had made it clear we were welcome to look around the library.” It was natural for Mercedes to be unsure, however Byleth had a feeling that there was a part of her angelic friend that wanted to. And yet there was still another factor. Byleth said a bit more slowly, “I feel I must say however that this… may not be to your father’s liking.”

“It may not be, but if we can be of any help to Miss Flayn, any at all,” despite her misgivings Mercedes spoke with a voice of absolute certainty in this regard. “Then I will take the chance.” 

Gliding in the cool flowing river of observation and deduction as she had been, Byleth felt a peal of warmth split through her to see Mercedes determination. It was why, despite the dire circumstances, Byleth wore a smile for the rest of their meal. Some tiny voice in the back of Byleth’s brain told her that the thrill of excitement she felt along her spine, the sparks of wonder in her brain whenever she was given a problem to solve, was downright cruel to feel much less show when a life was possibly in danger. But she would not deny that she was happy Mercedes would join her.

In the light of day the girls were better able to see the true size of the monastery. The Gothic architecture with it’s darkened gray stones and multiple heavy archways made the main buildings appear as if they would forever stand the test of time, imposing it’s height and grandeur on many generations to come. While the outside walls of the main cathedral were kept clean Byleth could clearly remember from the night before some of the other buildings wearing thin layers of climbing vines, like a light jacket prepared in case of chill.

“I see that you were prepared to spend time outside today,” Mercedes commented as Byleth stepped down from their carriage with a gold and red parasol in the crook of her elbow, “but it does not look as that will be necessary.” The sky was planted firmly within the usual range of gray for the capitol - not sunny but not expectant of any rain either.

“One never knows,” Byleth remarked as she finished hopping down.

Out of interest to see how the cathedral was set up normally, and deciding it to be a good place to start as one of the main buildings, the girls stepped through it’s large wooden doors first. When they entered it was as if no event had been hosted inside other than religious services just the night before - if ever at all. Heavy, dark wooden pews marched in neat lines all the way to the altar-topped pedestal. There was nary a sign of a decoration, a chair, a table, anything. It’s impossibly high ceilings made it feel particularly cavernous without the number of bodies filling the air with gossip and the clatter of dancing feet. The only souls within it’s confines now were Byleth, Mercedes, and a girl lighting a candle to the right of the pedestal.

That shade of orange looked awfully familiar. “Miss Leonnie?” Byleth spoke as they approached her, the girl coming to stand from her kneeling position just as they did so. She had been praying - how unexpected.

“Byleth,” Leonnie greeted with a belated nod. It seemed Byleth was one of the last people she would expect to meet here as well. “Miss Mercedes.”

“Were you lighting a candle for Miss Flayn?” Mercedes posed in that soft voice of hers. It seemed to do just the trick of melting a fraction of that ice Leonnie had put up in her surprise.

The redhead nodded again, letting out a sigh and putting a hand on her hip to look around the grand building in which they stood. “I just can’t believe how strange it all is.”

“Were you here last night, then? At the party?” Byleth asked, holding her parasol neatly in front of her. As she spoke she stepped away from the two other girls to peer at the stone walls of the cathedral, looking out one stained glass window before moving on to another.

Although obviously perplexed by Byleth’s movements, Leonnie answered all the same. “I was. I guess you guys were too - I might have seen you heading outside at some point with Miss Flayn.”

Mercedes for her part did not appear affected at all by her friend’s investigating windows and pews. “Yes, we wanted to take a look around the grounds. We ended up meeting Father Tomas who was happy to give Miss Flayn, Byleth, Professor Hanneman, and I a tour.”

There was a pause. When Leonnie replied her voice was higher, almost questioning in tone.  “Funnily enough Father Tomas was here not that long ago. He was asking about Flayn but - about you as well Byleth. And Captain Jeralt.”

From her place beside one of the nearby pews - trying to subtly test just how heavy they were - Byleth stopped and looked at Leonnie. “About my father and I?”

Leonnie waved a dismissive hand. There was no need to react in such a shocked manner, at least not in her mind. “I think he may have just been worried about another girl here without family. He told me to be careful, what with Miss Flayn going missing and I being in a similar position to yours.”

It did not assuage her curiosity but Byleth nodded all the same. “I see. How kind of him.” She looked up to the grandiose rose window of the cathedral. Each of it’s intricate spokes led to a circle depicting one of the saints for which each of the Crests were named, with a darkened form of the Goddess at it’s center. While colorful - she wondered at the vagueness found in some visages compared to the detail found in the individual windows lining the stone walls.

“It is interesting that he is asking after Miss Flayn as well,” Mercedes hummed, tapping a finger to the side of her face thoughtfully.

“As well?” Leonnie quirked a brow.

Byleth did not have to give Mercedes an at all reproachful look - the small gasp the blonde gave was enough. She realized mayhaps she should not have let that slip. She did not suppose she had been purposefully keeping their intention a secret from Leonnie - and in realizing this Byleth noted she did not believe it to be necessary. “Mercedes and I came to investigate the grounds, ask around about Miss Flayn, in an attempt to find some clues the police might miss.”

The Leonnie from their first meeting returned when she snickered. “You think you know better than they do?”

“Not better,” Byleth spoke honestly, “only different. Women have a certain skill set in this age that men do not possess: gaging their physical and reputational safety constantly in their environment. Men of standing within our society as it is do not worry for their person near as much as women do, so they oftentimes automatically assume safety with far more ease than a woman or others without their privilege.”

Two different gazes with two differing emotions behind them watched Byleth following her short speech. Mercedes’ deep blue eyes held admiration and wonder. Leonnie’s held a mixture of confusion and… respect? Byleth could not be sure which notion overpowered the other in the redhead’s mind. It appeared as if she was going to say something when the loud, echoing sound of a clock tower on the grounds struck the time.

“My apologies,” Leonnie nodded after the last toll had struck, “but I must be off. Best of luck in your investigation.”

“You know,” Mercedes said, coming to stand beside Byleth in watching Leonnie leave, “I can’t quite tell if she likes you or not.”

Byleth’s hum to the affirmative was not enough of a response for Mercedes this time around. She glanced at her friend. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Byleth admitted. “Let us keep going. Maybe we will find Father Tomas and ascertain his intentions.”

In exiting the door in the east wall they entered the covered corridor they had walked before. With the light of day they could better see the gardens on either side of it - the one on their left including a large pond at a sort of courtyard made between multiple buildings. Again they were met with a familiar figure, this time of a brown haired man staring mournfully into the dark depths of the water. Before they could call out to him however Detective Rengeld was turning away and wiping at his eyes wearing a solemn expression. Byleth may have feared for the worst had it not been for the, albeit forced, smile that lightened his face when he recognized the girls.

“Miss Byleth, Miss Mercedes!” He greeted as he walked up to them at the walk. “What are you doing here?”

Not that she thought Mercedes would repeat her previous case of being a bit too honest, but Byleth still took the initiative to answer this time. “Father Tomas said we could visit the monastery’s library. We thought to take him up on the offer as soon as possible, in case it is one he may rescind given the time to think it over. Did you drop something in the pond, sir?”

“Ah-“ The Detective started as if he had to catch up to the shift in topic. He had been prepared to say something else before Byleth narrowly changed the entire direction they were headed. “No…”

He was holding his hat in his hands as he had that morning. Round and round it went in his palms, taking a full half turn of anxious wringing before he spoke. “No. There has been talk of the need to search it for - Miss Flayn, but I cannot bring myself to do so.”

Beside Byleth Mercedes made a sympathetic sound. That would indeed be a difficult task for one to do, and that it still affected the detective so belied that his years in the military and subsequent time on the police force had not rid him of such feelings. Some may call that weakness - but it made Byleth like him even more. Even still, there had been something said the night prior that bore repeating.

“Last night you said something to Miss Flayn. That Mr. Seteth did not much like you speaking to her too much. What did you mean by that?”

The look of shock from the detective soon gave way to understanding. He may have much kindness, but he had not risen to his position for nothing. “That sounds suspicious enough to make me a suspect in your eyes, Miss Eisner.”

“I do not wish you to stay one long, Detective. Please give me reason to believe otherwise.”

Detective Rengeld sighed, a long and tired sound. “Mr. Seteth has a lot of power and connection in both the police force and the military. But as soon as he began to bring Miss Flayn around, just in passing, he made it clear that he did not want her to have any close ties to said connections for herself. If she spoke too long to anyone from his work he always stepped in, saying a girl her age ought not know about such things. It’s not at all as if I spoke to her about my job though, I assure you. Whenever he came around to speak to the commissioner or someone I would try and keep her entertained while she waited on him. That’s all. She would always laugh at my jokes or tricks, even the ones others hate.”

By the end his eyes had turned sad and remorseful. He was remembering all of the time he had spent with Miss Flayn and became disheartened that he knew not where she was. Byleth did not like to see him in such a state, his head hung low and pain in his face. “Thank you, Detective,” she said, although she knew it brought the man no comfort.

That was where Mercedes’ talents lay. “Detective,” she said, voice soft as a mother soothing a child without seeming condescending, “there is still a chance that she may be found safe, if you and your men keep your faith. Many people are keeping Miss Flayn in their prayers and will surely come to you if they remember anything of note.”

“So I should keep my wits about me in the meantime,” the man finished with a shuddering inhale of emotion. In the following release of air his smile was a bit more genuine. “Thank you, ladies, I do appreciate your words. Do be safe on your way.” And with a polite bow he was off, a determined force in his steps.

“You handled that very gracefully,” Byleth said, touching Mercedes’ arm.

The blonde smiled. “You investigate - I understand. Should we try for the library next, to look for Father Tomas? And to better excuse our reason for being here.”

“Not quite yet, I think.” Byleth said as they continued down the corridor. It was a serene enough garden - clearly well cared for by the clergy there. When she stepped off the path to inspect specific plants she did not see anything that was of the particularly poisonous variety that Flayn could have unknowingly touched or been poisoned with on the fly.

Were there any old wells on the property she could be in? In this age any such things would have been long boarded up if not covered over, making them hard to find as an outsider without much knowledge of the daytime geography to the place. What about some secret rooms or passages? Most estates this large had something of the like. She could have discovered one and tripped down the stairs. Or she really could have been taken somewhere else and this was all for naught.

“Father Tomas,” Mercedes said in greeting, pulling Byleth from her beginning spiral. Sure enough, despite having chosen to not seek him out just yet, they had come upon the elder priest checking over vegetables in a small kitchen garden. By the time Byleth had come to Mercedes was helping the man straighten himself up from the crouching position they had found him in.

“My thanks, young miss,” the man smiled gratefully. “Now what are you two ladies doing here today?”

“We hoped we could take a look at the library, as you promised,” Mercedes said. Byleth was certain she had increased the sweetness of her tone to be more than usual.

The priest, however, held a small frown. “I would think after the disappearance of Miss Nabatean you would have been too frightened to come back.”

“Yes, we saw Miss Leonnie on our way in. She said you had been warning her to be safe and asking about Miss Flayn. But also about myself and my father.” Mercedes gave Byleth a bit of a shocked look, as if she were now the one saying things she ought not have. The girl did not bat an eye, however, and watched the priest resolutely for his answer.

Whatever slip in countenance she may have expected did not come. The man instead actually laughed. “I see, that must sound a bit suspicious to a young lady, hm? I was only asking after Miss Flayn because I have come to know Mr. Seteth over my years of employ here, and it was not until rather recently that he appeared with a younger sister I had never heard of. I thought mayhaps that had something to do with where she had gone. As for you and your father, Captain Eisner, I wondered at if he would rush home to protect a lone daughter if he was informed of this tragedy.”

“You are jumping to an awful lot of conclusions, Father.”

“That is the way of some of us, isn’t it?” The old man laughed, leveling a look at her that was hard to read. It was not as if he gave her time to decide. “Well, I am more than happy to show you the library. If you would allow me to take these vegetables to the kitchen and get them cleaned - I will be there as soon as I can to let you in. You girls are more than welcome to continue looking about in the mean time. Just try not to get in the way of whatever the police are doing, hm?”

“Father, one more thing if you don’t mind.” Byleth was not finished just yet.

The Priest seemed cordial enough, turning back to her with the same enigmatic smile. “Yes?”

“The rooms near the library, are we going to be disturbing the police in there?”

“No dear, they have no offices in that building as of now.” He waved a worn hand. “They are mostly storage at the moment in fact. It will be nice and quiet for you.”

“Very good. Thank you, father.”

Much like with Leonnie, they waited until he was out of earshot to speak. “That was odd,” Byleth said, already beginning to continue their walk through the grounds.

“I believe you made it odd, Byleth,” with a small nudge at her elbow with her own from Mercedes.

“Something about the things he said, or the way he looked I’m not sure which, made me uneasy…” Byleth trailed off shortly. “But it could be my imagination running away with me.”

Mercedes tilted her head up to inspect her friend sidelong. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“No, not really.”

They fell silent for a few moments as they walked. Byleth was reminded of her father describing the churches on Kingdom soil being dark, drafty places. Of the monastery’s buildings she had seen thus far she found the sentiment to be a partial truth. Many of the church buildings had broad, open walkways with tall and thin openings with pointed arches. The further the girls walked from the buildings likely to be open to the public, the more vines and less trimmed bushes were allowed to climb up the walls and into the arched windows. It was all so romantic. At one point she spied a low bench through one of the windows and attempted to remind herself of the location, so she may hopefully be able to read there in the future.

“I wonder where the police and militia headquarters are, if not in the library building…”

Mercedes tilted her head. She did not seem to have minded the spot of silence that had precluded this, and instead launched once more unto their investigation. “Yes, did you ask that for any specific reason?”

“I thought the man we saw in passing there was in uniform…” Byleth trailed off. She should have asked the detective about him. It was a bit of a stretch, but there was a small chance he may recognize her description of the man if the police and militia interacted enough around the grounds of the monastery that they shared. The mask certainly was a distinctive enough trait. Or perhaps there was someone else…

“We should try and find Captain Charon.” Byleth announced as she nodded firmly.

“That was speaking to the detective last night?” Mercedes asked.

“The very one.”

It did not take much effort to locate where on the grounds the militia had set up base. Across a field that may have at one time been used for livestock was a set of buildings with a number of training dummy’s set up before them. Many people in uniform were practicing maneuvers in the surrounding spanse. There was a table along the way with pens, sheets of paper beneath a rock, and pouches for dispatches. With a single glance around for anyone watching Byleth swiped a piece of paper and folded it to be slid into one of the smaller pouches. Mercedes gaze was trained on each othe men too much to have noticed. Was she looking for the man in the mask?

The girls found a familiar blonde woman practicing at a shooting range off to the side of an old barn. They both knew to keep a fair number of paces behind the line and simply wait for her to finish the round. Besides, it gave them ample time to watch Catherine Charon at work. Her hair was again pulled into a neat ponytail at the backside of her head. Although not near as nice an outfit as they had witnessed her in before, she was apparently often given to wear trousers. Perhaps she had plans to ride later, as these were the tighter fit pants and high riding boots than most casual wear. If Byleth were to guess she would say that Catherine much preferred hand to hand combat or at least not the kind that included firearms. While she was methodical in her loading, the small tsk -ing sound she made at the end of each round led her to believe that a six-round cylinder was still not enough action for in between required rests to re-load.

After the third round following their arrival Catherine placed the revolver on the long table from which she shot and turned around. “Ladies, what can I help you with?” Even with the sounds of her own gunfire she had noticed their approach from behind. No wonder she had made it so far through the ranks.

“We attended the ball here last night. There was a man in the militia uniform we passed last night. It appeared he dropped something in the hall but he had already gone by the time we realized.” Byleth lied with relative ease, presenting the pouch she had recently taken. “We looked for a name or address but there was none to be had. I do recall something of his appearance though.”

As she listened the woman leaned onto the table with one elbow. Were the raised eyebrows because she was impressed? Or was she only sizing up the two girls before her? “How kind of you. What did this man look like? There is a good chance I will know him.”

“He had light hair in a long ponytail. Perhaps a half a head taller than I. And he wore a white mask over his eyes and forehead.” Byleth answered. She could likely have given more information, the nature of his gait and what it told her, the immaculate state of his uniform, but such things were a bit too on point when one was attempting to appear a member of the concerned and ‘simple’ citizenry.

A snort of understanding from Catherine’s nostrils. Just as Byleth had thought, it was a distinctive enough appearance without her extra observations. “That would be Jeritza, he is one of our sword instructors. If he has misplaced something that may explain why he has been acting so strange.”

“Is he here? Perhaps we could return it ourselves,” Byleth asked, casting her eyes about as if she and Mercedes both had not already surveyed the field for any sign of him.

Catherine shook her head. “I am afraid he is not. He put in a request to have a couple days off for holiday.”

“How unfortunate,” Mercedes murmured. A throwaway sort of response that gave Byleth a brief pause. She had been so quiet up until then. Why?

“Catherine, if you do not mind my asking one more thing? It might sound a bit strange.” Byleth asked as she handed over the would-be lost pouch.

“Of course not, miss.” Catherine smiled cordially.

“Is Mr. Jeritza much for reading?”

That was not at all within the realm of what Catherine had expected. She had to stop and ponder the thought for a moment. “Not that I know of. Although he does tend to keep to himself, a trait one does usually associate with those that enjoy reading. But I can’t say I’ve ever seen him with a book in hand.”

“Thank you for your help, Captain,” Byleth curtsied in gratitude, Mercedes doing the same before they departed for the library.

It was nearing the end of spring, a few hold out butterflies lazily fluttering across their path as they walked down an old brick path that led to the main buildings of the monastery. And yet Mercedes, usually so attentive to the wonders around her, had downcast eyes.

Byleth gently touched at her friend’s elbow. “Are you alright, Mercedes?”

Although she was not outwardly shocked by the gesture, as the distance in her eyes would have made Byleth guess she would be, the smile Mercedes then bore was only half-present. “Something about that man in the mask makes me uneasy, Byleth. But… The way Professor Hanneman continued to try and lead Miss Flayn into talking about Crests, no matter how much she politely declined or changed the subject. That was also disconcerting. Oh but - I do not want to think poorly of him-“

“But you believe he may have cornered her for some tests or other.” Byleth finished the thought. “That is a very good observation. As cryptic as some of his words earlier may have been, it would not hurt to ask Father Tomas about him.”

And yet again their suspect had an alibi to be delivered by another party. “Professor Hanneman said he would be leaving quite early for a conference this morning,” Father Tomas remembered as he slid a book into place on one of the many tall, ancient shelves of his library. Were they in a book Byleth was certain there would be a puff of dust billowing out from the insertion - but it seemed in reality Father Tomas and the other priests were better caretakers then those in literature. “This was why after you ladies left for the show he did not spent a long time here with me. He said he would have to retire so as to be up in time for his train.”

“How convenient…” So not only was the military man that had no obvious reason to be in the building that night and took a notable look at Miss Flayn on holiday, but so too was the Professor of Crests that had been none too subtly hinting an interest in studying her nature? But Byleth was not wholly deterred. “Father, could you help me locate a few things specifically? A copy of the Peerage, a history of the Crests as related to the Church, and some maps of the monasteries grounds and buildings?”

Father Tomas hummed thoughtfully once he had climbed down from the ladder. “I could point you ladies in the direction of the first two, Miss Eisner, but it would take me some time to locate the latter.”

Byleth shook her head at the man’s apologetic tone. It was no trouble. “Oh, that is fine. It will give us time to check together.”

The copy of the Peerage was easy enough to find, even if it was a bit outdated. A fairly basic explanation of Crests and their history was a bit difficult to find, however, and the girls ended up with a total of five books spread out across a long table of the library for them to pour over. “I may not have the most historically accurate or scientific understanding, but I know enough about Crests as I believe most common people do Byleth. Why do we need these?” Mercedes gestured to the pile of historical texts.

“I have been out of the country most of my life, in places where Crests do not hold near as much sway over society as they do elsewhere, especially not here in the capital. I could do with a bit more understanding.” Her father had never cared much about including such things in her education. Noting his disinterest, Byleth had thusly tended to zone out in favor of more interesting topics inside her mind whenever they came up in the few tutor-led lessons she had growing up. “While I try and brush up on the topic myself, could you look for Miss Flayn in the Peerage? I believe I remember her finally telling the Professor that she has a Major Crest of Cethaleen.”

Perhaps they had pulled too many different tomes for her to look over. Normally one that enjoyed study, Byleth found herself unable to focus for as long a period as her usual. She kept glancing in the direction Father Tomas had gone to search for the plans and maps, or deciding to change to a different book that may have something better to keep her interest, only to end up finding the next just as incomprehensible.

Somewhere in between the religious aspects of the royalty being blessed with certain Crests that made them the blessed chosen, and the more scientific concepts of the different elemental leanings of Crests placed on a map of the Kingdom to showcase population densities, she found her eyes no longer swimming amongst the stark lines of words but instead staring off into the colorful haze of a window. It was stained glass in the image of a woman angel, white wings spread out behind her and long flowing golden hair. The faint dust of the library no amount of cleaning could clear danced in the light the sun cast through the window, making it a colored mist of twinkling air for Byleth to follow with her eyes. At the end it fell upon none other than Mercedes.

Her hair appeared almost white in the geometric shapes of direct sunlight, while it was cast in swirling bits of red in others. She was reading so intently she did not seem to notice or care about the colors falling onto the open pages of her book. Brows were slightly furrowed in concentration while her eyes trailed side to side in an uninterrupted sequence. A noise from outside, a bird hitting a seed against a stone walk to crack it, broke her trance. She looked up and met Byleth’s eyes - a pink not found in the stained glass scene coloring her cheeks as they spread into a smile. “What?”

“Nothing at all,” Byleth hummed, allowing herself just the barest moment more of serenity. Only that, though. They were already spending too long on their search for clues. “What have you found so far?”

“For starters,” Mercedes said, looking down once more and flipping to a page she had been place-keeping with a finger, “do you remember Father Tomas saying he had not known Mr. Seteth had a sister until quite recently? This edition is seven years old, and yet Miss Flayn is nowhere to be found. I started searching by Crest, as you suggested. There are few others with a Major Crest of Cethleann, a handful in the south. Or at least there were seven years ago. I then looked by family tree and was able to find Mr. Seteth - but again, nothing of Miss Flayn. According to this edition he was an only child. But Miss Flayn is much older than seven years old.”

“We can’t be sure until we consult a more recent edition that she may have appeared in,” Byleth thought aloud, “but a girl just appearing out of nowhere, holding a relatively rare Crest… would certainly be interesting to Professor Hanneman.” 

“Perhaps too much to resist.” Mercedes finished, meeting Byleth’s eyes.

Their concentration on one another was broken by Father Tomas appearing - with notably empty arms. “Very strange and - honestly disconcerting,” he admitted, his face drawn into worried confusion. “But all of the plans or maps of the monastery are gone. Nor do I have any notes of who might have taken them.”

“Are there often people in the library when you are not present?” Mercedes posed.

The priest shook his head, “It is locked if I or my assistant are not here.”

“What about last night?” Byleth asked. “Was Professor Hanneman in your sight the entire time you were both here, after we left for the show?”

Father Tomas understood where this line of questioning was going and paused to think. “I suppose I told him where our historical texts on Crests were and allowed him to look around while I straightened a few things.”

“And a military man, Jeritza, wears a mask?” Asked Byleth. “Is he here often?”

“I don’t believe I ever saw him,” he shook his head, “not until this very week.”

“We have two possible suspects, but neither are supposed to be here… Do you think we should tell Detective Rengeld?” Mercedes asked as they began to leave the grounds. The light was beginning to dim in the sky. They had been gone the better part of the afternoon.

And with little to show for it in the grand scheme of things. Byleth shook her head. “No, it is not enough to do anything but make us appear as silly girls. We are no closer to finding Miss Flayn.”

When she felt a warm touch to her shoulder Byleth looked up, her eyes meeting Mercedes gentle gaze. “All is not lost. Let us think on it at home, consult what we can, and meet again tomorrow morning. At the same tea room.”

In returning home finally it was already dinner time in the Eisner household. Byleth felt quite blessed to have such a thoughtful and efficient staff that she had a warm meal waiting for her when she arrived home. Even more so that they did not take even a second glance at the young lady spreading out her copy of the Peerage, paper, and pen alongside her plate to work whilst she ate. Not the most lady-like of ways in which to spend her meal but as she was alone at the table and never much for many lady-like mannerisms, but there she was. She was just beginning a third page when Mr. Lindel stepped into the dining room.

“A Mr.Seteth to see you, miss,” he was barely able to announce before just the man stepped into the doorway.

“My apologies, Miss Eisner, for interrupting your meal like this.” He still held his hat in one hand and his walking cane in the other. The man was harried, face a mess of anxiety. Byleth could not at all fault him for it and gestured that he may sit. 

“I offer my condolences for what you are going through, sir,” Byleth said as her plates were taken away in favor of tea for her and her seated guest. Mr. Lindel and Jenny both know of the situation and had more sympathy for Mr. Seteth than to suggest they move to the parlor to talk. “I cannot even imagine what you are feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” the man sighed, hanging his cane from the arm of his chair. He stared into his steaming cup of tea as it was served, looking haggard all the while. It was likely that he had not slept. “I was told that you were asking questions at the monastery today, and that Detective Rengeld visited you this morning to take your statement…”

Now Seteth looked up to meet her eyes, his first time doing so since arriving. His expression was desperate - a weakness she had not believed him at all willing to show to others in her first meeting of him. “If there is anything that you find to assist in finding my Flayn…”

Attempting to channel Mercedes as much as she could Byleth spoke in a soft, encouraging voice.“I will report it immediately, I promise you.”

As if coming a tad into his former self Mr. Seteth released a breath and straightened himself in his chair. He pointedly looked at her papers on the table. “I see you have notes. Did you make any discoveries today?”

“Sir, I do not want to get your hopes up-“

“Tell me what you have found.”

A deep breath. He believed that with that tone and the direness of the situation she would relinquish all she had. The fact that with each passing hour Flayn either moved further away or was in more danger of never being found was not lost on her, and Byleth hoped she had made that clear but… even still. She shifted the papers closer to her and further from his eyes, placing them in a pile before her with her hand atop. “All I have so far is conjecture. It would not do for you to attempt to make any move, possibly tipping off whoever knows of her whereabouts in the process. I am sorry but - I cannot in good faith tell you at this time. All I can tell you is if I find anything closer to definite evidence - I will turn it over immediately.”

The harsh sliding of Mr. Seteth’s chair as he stood was loud enough to bring Mr. Lindel into the doorway. “I could have been spending this time with the police or out looking for her myself-but instead I have to listen to this… You really refuse to tell me what you know?” He slammed his hands on the table, Mr. Lindel advancing a step into the room in case he needed to halt an altercation. At the shake of Byleth’s head Mr. Lindel stood down - and Mr. Seteth scoffed. “After the praise Flayn had for your intellect I had hoped… but no. I was mistaken. As was she.”

Following Mr. Seteth’s departure Byleth sat in the dining room for some time. She sat with her hands neatly folded in her lap and stared out the window so long her neck would surely be sore the following morning. But she did not notice nor did she care. Strangely enough it was Mrs. Foster that entered to check on her.

“Seems ‘at Mr. Seteth left in quite the huff.” Mrs. Foster stated as she sat in the chair nearest Byleth. There was narry a care for etiquette in the way Mrs. Foster so unceremoniously came down into the chair nor in the way she addressed Byleth. As much as she read the society papers - she clearly had no time for such things.

“I cannot fault him for it,” Byleth breathed into the turning of her head. Now she looked over all of the notes again spread before her. Was it all for naught? “His beloved little sister is missing.”

Mrs. Foster only scoffed. “But that i’nt your fault, miss, not by any means of the imagination.”

“Perhaps not,” Byleth admitted, although there was no somberness lost in her tone. “And yet I thought I could do something to change the situation. Find out where she was or - at least why she left, had it been of her own accord.”

“You can be like a dog with a bone when yer onto somethin’ you wanna get figured out,” the cook chortled with such real enjoyment that Byleth looked up at her. Mrs. Foster must have been in her late forties by then, the hard lines across her face and the wisps of gray hair sticking out from her bun after a full day of work alluding to a not so easy life. Even with her blunt words, however, Byleth could see that a good portion of the wrinkles on the woman’s face were from laughing, smiling.

“I do not think that has won me any favors here, Mrs. Foster, in this particular situation.” Byleth could not look directly at Mrs. Foster when she said this. She laughed herself as she spoke, although more ruefully. “I have gotten no closer to Miss Flayn’s safety nor her whereabouts. And I seem to have given false hope to those close to her by even attempting it.”

There came a small tutting sound for such a response. “So you’re just gonna roll over and stop doin’ anythin’, is that it? Like a meek little stray dog that’s ‘ad rocks thrown at it?”

“I prefer cats,” Byleth mumbled. It sounded like the reply of a child even out of her own mouth.

“A stray cat, then,” Mrs. Foster flagged an annoyed hand in Byleth’s direction. “Doesn’t change my meanin’ none. You’ll just give up on that girl because it’s been one day and ‘er brother gets a bit miffed at ya?”

“I am not a detective, Mrs. Foster.” Shoulders sagged at the weight of this confession. Had she truly believed she had a chance where others were failing? Others like Detective Rengeld, with years of experience under his belt. Or Mr. Seteth with all of the resources in the world practically at his fingertips. Every passing day put Miss Flayn in more danger, one way or another, and Byleth could simply be muddying the waters for all those that had an actual chance at finding her. Even her father told her she had a tendency to meddle when her curiosity was piqued. “My formal schooling has been parse at best. What could I hope to do with how little I have to show for it so far?” She placed one hand on the table, atop one of the few full pages of notes.

“Ay, ye may not be as trained as them police, but ‘alf of what they know came from the job rather than the classroom or the books, and you read plenty of those by the by.” Warmth encompassed her fingers. Mrs. Foster had placed her larger, rougher hand over hers. When Byleth met her eyes - they were warmer still. “Us serving folk will be loyal to our employers for bigger holiday bonuses, a better letter of recommendation down the road, ‘tis all true. But why do ye think we all look out for you so, Miss Byleth, or talk to ye so much when we ‘ave work to do? Because you’ve only been ‘ere for a short time and you’ve already done more for us than most would. When Jenny lost ‘er mothers necklace you looked this house top to bottom for it, even without ‘er there to see or ‘elp. You worked at it for days, askin’ where she was when she last ‘ad it, what all she had done that day.”

In squeezing Byleth’s hand and tilting her chin down to look at her Mrs. Foster was attempting to get her point across more firmly. “Most people would not ‘ave given two shits about a maids lost necklace, even less would’ve spent that much time lookin’ for it.”

“But it was her mothers,” Byleth tried to say, “and it only took me two days.”

The way that Mrs. Foster barked out a laugh and threw her head back Byleth felt her shoulders jump at the sudden volume of it. “Ay, two whole days on one necklace, and you wanna give up when ye can’t find a whole girl after a single afternoon?”

Something about this old cook’s look of bemusement, or how strong her laugh was, or how much she cared to sit and comfort her when she should very well be on her way home… made Byleth at once feel very silly - and very blessed. She began to laugh too. “Thank you, Mrs. Foster.”

The hug that Byleth gave Mrs. Foster before she left for the night brought on another surprised laugh. And the assurance that Byleth would be dining out the following morning, so Mrs. Foster was asked to stay home and sleep in as long as she would like, earned a warm smile. Still, Byleth felt these were paltry in comparison to the renewed spirit the cook had given her. She told herself to purchase the cake from a well known bakery she had heard Mrs. Foster mention enjoying for a sisters birthday.

While she was not the first customer at the tea room the next morning, Byleth was one of only a few patrons. A couple of workers taking a quick breakfast, what appeared to be some elderly women talking about their quilting projects. As she waited she laid her notes out on the table.

Flayn Nabatean. Missing. Major Crest of Cethleann. Not found in Peerage 7 years past.

Jeritza. Military man. Seen in the library building, stared at Flayn, makes Mercedes uneasy. Because she recognizes him? Or only the mask? On holiday.

Professor Hanneman. Crest expert. Attempted to question Flayn but was rejected. Left for conference.

Father Tomas. Had not heard of Flayn from Seteth. Asking about her as well as myself and father.

Also to be noted: plans of monastery missing. Indication of attempts to hide her on the property?

“Miss Eisner?” It was not clear to Byleth how much she ached to see Mercedes, to be given some sort of advice or kind word, until she cast a quick and hopeful glance up - and found it to be not her at all. It was Dorothea that had spoken, standing over the seated Byleth.

Rather than the red velvet dress of their first meeting, Dorothea was fashioned a bit more practically if a bit somberly now. She wore a smart black and gold traveling outfit including a matching black cap. Unease settled deeper in Byleth’s gut - there was little relief in Dorothea’s eyes in seeing an acquaintance. Rather she appeared tired. “Miss Dorothea, are you alright?”

Despite herself Dorothea actually laughed. It was not polite to make comments on another woman’s health. “I look that bad, huh?” Either she was too exhausted to care or this was her normal level of sarcasm and wit. Byleth did not know her enough to tell.

For how little they had spoken, Dorothea felt comfortable enough to then let out a sigh and seat herself at Byleth’s table. She began telling her tale, munching on one of the biscuits Byleth ordered but had yet left untouched. “Manuela has been acting so strange ever since her performance for Miss Flayn’s ball. At first I thought it was worry over Miss Flayn - but it is not as if she knew her that well. Not to sound unsympathetic, but you hear sad stories all the time in theater. That is somewhat the point.”

“But her behavior continued to seem strange?” Byleth asked, before adding, “beyond what you understood?”

“Yes. And she was missing lessons, rehearsals.” Dorothea had been lathering another biscuit with the raspberry jam also at the table and now pointed the butter knife at Byleth. “You know she was not feeling well after her performance? We were offered a room for the night in the monastery. I’ve seen her miss rehearsal for real hangovers - but this was different. She’s normally more melodramatic, even depressed. Even after we left she said she kept making excuses that she needed to go back. She forgot something, there was a question she needed to ask.”

This was all very odd. Byleth thought while Dorothea finished her biscuit, trying to search for the possible explanations. By the time Dorothea was dabbing the crumbs from her cheek Byleth had decided she did not have enough information and posed another question, one that settled like thick soup in her belly. Too thick. “It was right after she sang that she started acting this way?”

“That is what I’m saying.” The rise in her volume caused a few heads to turn. Dorothea did not mind the glances of fellow patrons, however, and did wave an apologetic hand to Byleth with a sigh. “Sorry, sorry, I know you’re only trying to understand. I can’t think of any reason or anything that happened why she would be acting so odd, no. But it only gets weirder. She ran off holding a mask, one I know hasn’t been used for anything we’ve ever put on.”

This time it was Byleth’s turn to garner the attention of others - by the loud clacking of her coffee cup hitting the table. “What did the mask look like?”

Dorothea looked at her strangely for such an outburst. Why did such details matter? “It was white, with a flash of gold somewhere on it I think…”

The room felt cold to Byleth all of a sudden. “And was she going to the monastery?”

“When I tried to run after her I heard her telling the cab to head there, yes…”

All in one motion Byleth had stood and taken up her parasol hanging from the chair arm. She was already starting for the door. “We have to leave. Now. Manuela is in danger.”

That got Dorothea’s attention. “What? Why?” The performer asked as she trailed after Byleth

There was a secondary worry ripping through Byleth’s heart, however. “You go to the monastery first, see if you can find her before she’s done anything alone. I need to find Mercedes, and then I will meet you there.”

Outside Dorothea stopped and took Byleth by the arm to stop her advance. “You’re not making any sense, why do you need to get Mercedes if Manuela is in danger?” There was no feasible reason that she had to explain why Byleth would go and visit a friend when she believed Dorothea’s close friend, her mentor, to be in danger.

Byleth could not blame Dorothea for being angry. She would have been too, had their roles been switched. But as it was - there was Mercedes. “Because she may be too.”

Of all the times she had faced down a wild animal, or stood alone at a social event while others commented on her strange behavior within very clear earshot, Byleth had never felt her pulse run this quickly. No matter how urgent she insisted it was to her driver the ride to the Ferguson residence did not seem to go any faster. She had to know that Mercedes was safe… If the mention of her unease about the man in the mask had been overheard, or if she had spoken of it to someone else… If she told her damned father and he went to the police… With a now maskless Jeritza ‘on holiday.’...

“Is Mercedes home?” Byleth panted at the door when it was answered by the butler. 

She must have been quite the sight, having jumped from the still moving carriage to pound on the door, the hem of her dress was wet from the ill-aimed leap. The upright man with a mustache had yet to fully open the door in speaking to her and continued to give her a barely hidden look of incredulousness. “And who may I ask-“

“Byleth?” The suspicious question from the man before her eyes was washed away by that familiar, angelic voice. “Mr. Herbert, please, let her in.”

There she was. As the butler stepped aside and allowed the door to open Byleth was met with the knee-shakingly relieving sight of Mercedes standing in the entrance hall. She wore her hair down when at home. How lovely. Without a care for how it may look to either the butler or people in the street Byleth rushed in to tightly embrace her friend. “I was so worried,” she breathed.

“I am so sorry I could not meet you, Byleth-“ Mercedes began, attempting to sooth her friend by rubbing at her back.

“That is not it,” Byleth shook her head strongly, stepping back to look Mercedes in the eye while still holding at her arms. “I believe the military man Jeritza is the one who took Miss Flayn. Manuela guessed it too, I know not how, and left for the monastery. We need to hurry there ourselves. There is no time-“

“Miss Eisner, then.” It was not the same disbelieving tone as he had used before, but the butler’s voice was still unnervingly closed off. “Shall I tell her, Miss Mercedes, or will you?”

“Mr. Herbert, our friends are in danger,” Mercedes spoke more firmly than the man had expected. His eyes widened at her movements to take up a coat.

There was no attempt to put hands on her, but he did step in close to bodily put himself between her and Byleth. This was also between her and the door. “As true as that may be, Miss Mercedes, you know what your father said.”

Mercedes gave the man a determined shake of her head. Understanding for his position shown in her eyes, and so too did her unwillingness to stop her chosen course. “I will try and convince him otherwise later. If I cannot do that - then I will bear the consequences.” Looking the picture of strength, Mercedes turned to Byleth when she finished buttoning her coat. “Let’s go to the monastery.”

Despite the circumstances of their quick chase Byleth was unable to keep from questioning Mercedes on their ride to the monastery. “What in the world did all of that mean?” 

Having been watching the streets fly by in the small window, Mercedes had to take a deep breath before she met Byleth’s hard gaze. “Will you allow me to tell you after?”

For one heartbeat more Byleth watched Mercedes. She took in the squaring of her shoulders. Was it to face the possible fate of Flayn Nabatean, the violence that could ensue, or whatever the mentioned consequences were? At that present moment Byleth could not tell. But she could decide to trust Mercedes. “I will.”

It was the first time since she had seen her that day that Mercedes smiled at Byleth. “Thank you, Byleth.”

“Now don’t be alarmed,” Byleth stated then as she bent over her skirt, “I do this to all of my clothes. One really does never know what sort of activities they will be required to accomplish and when.”

Perplexed, Mercedes watched as her friend revealed the false nature of her outfit. The blue overskirt she wore pinched and ruffled up at her front from it’s full calf-length at her back over the small bustle. The black underskirt underneath appeared to have cord drawn lengthwise at two points, on either side of her legs. This allowed for her to pull the cord and bunch up the deceptively thinner material, creating an almost boxed opening to reveal her black stocking legs to the mid-thigh. “It makes it so much easier to run… and fight if required.”

Despite the faint blush Mercedes gave - it was highly unusual and scandalous to be showing that amount of leg outside certain situations - she appeared impressed. Byleth decided to believe it was towards both her ingenuity and the state of her legs.

By the time they reached the monastery it had begun to rain heavily, shrouding the tops of the cathedral and other taller buildings on the estate. Any figures they might see walking about would look dark and ominous without any stretch of the imagination. In exiting first Byleth extended her parasol above them. It would provide little protection and most certainly require replacement after - but now was not the time to worry about such things. She and Mercedes shared one look on the wet cobblestones before they were running towards the looming black shapes amongst all of the muddled gray.

While they did not expect her to be sitting around waiting for them in the cathedral, the girls entered there first simply because there appeared to be a few dim lights from within. Perhaps someone had seen Dorothea or Manuela and could point them in the direction they had gone. Instead they found it to be as empty and silent as a coffin - eerily so considering the downpour coming from outside.

Silence that was then cut through by the knife’s edge of a scream in the distance. Automatically Mercedes looked to Byleth, about to ask if she had heard it too, before there came another piercing shriek. Their boots clacked against the marble floor until they were splashing across soaked grass outside. In her heart Byleth knew, before it’s shape became entirely visible, that they were headed towards the library that they were headed.

“Dorothea!” Mercedes called to a flash of brown hair disappearing into the building a couple of paces ahead of them.

“That was Manuela, I know it was!” Dorothea cried back as she raced up the stairs to a familiar hall. Byleth’s eyes immediately went to the door she remembered Jeritza exiting from. It was ajar.

Dorothea sucked in such air as if to scream when she pushed the door open to find none other than Manuela on the floor, lain on her front with a knife sticking from it. Dorothea was on her knees, hands shaking. “What do we-do I take it out? What should we do? Is she alive?”

Mercedes was the one to bend down and check the woman’s pulse. “She is alive. You need to run and find the police, a priest, anyone to get help.” In the face of crisis she spoke clearly. Dorothea nodded, giving her mentor one last look before running back out the door.

Mercedes looked to see Byleth investigating the room, the picture of determination even as her soaked hair dripped into her face. The space was used for storage, that much was obvious by the sheets hanging from different large odds and ends. Crates, statues, bits of furniture. Dust added an extra thin layer to the sheets. However the room received enough traffic that she could not make out any specific footprints or signs of struggle on the floor. It did not appear as if Manuela was dragged there from a different location, as there was no blood trail. However…

“She is pointing at something.” Byleth announced. The woman’s hand was positioned with her index finger out, the rest of her hand folded if only partially. When she followed the line of her hand… it led to a bookcase against a wall. Byleth stepped over to kneel before it - noting that the threadbare rug in front of it was folded over at the corner nearest the shelf. Before Mercedes could move to stop her, Byleth was standing and stepping to the side of the shelf. She put all of her weight into the side of it to make the piece slide across the floor. And behind it, just as she had predicted, there was a small landing with a row of stone stairs leading down into inky blackness. There was no doubt it had been used recently by the still wet mud caked against the first step’s edge.

“What in the world?” Dorothea had returned with two priests. Their expressions were enough to tell Byleth that they were unaware of this secret passage.

“You’re not going down there, are you?” Mercedes stood, allowing the priests to begin gingerly moving Manuela.

Byleth was not to be swayed. She slid off one of the cleanest sheets to make quick work of drying only her face and her hair. “I have to believe that this is connected to Miss Flayn. There is no time to waste if it is.”

“But whoever attacked Manuela could be - probably is down there!”

Byleth retrieved her parasol that had been leaned against the now bare crate. She placed both hands on the handle, pressed her thumb against a notch, and slid the umbrella portion away to reveal a thin blade. “One must always be prepared.”

“I’m going with you,” Mercedes insisted.

“Dorothea, take care of Manuela. Make sure the police know what has occurred here. Backup would be nice if at all possible,” Byleth said, taking up a lantern from atop a nearby table. Mercedes did not bother questioning why she had a box of matches in a pocket of her skirt, instead taking them and the lantern. Thank heavens they had not been soaked through in Byleth’s skirt by the rain. With the lantern lit - the girls descended into the darkness.

Their heels echoed against the old stone steps. It was a narrow passageway that whirled around a couple times in an unnervingly disorienting manner. Were they going into a basement beneath the building they had entered, or heading into something below ground that was completely unknown? Byleth believed it to be the former but - she could not be sure. Eventually light other than that of their lantern could be seen below them, making Byleth then whisper to Mercedes to blow out their lantern. They needed every chance at secrecy they could get. Byleth could not keep from smiling when Mercedes finished the task only to hold the lantern above her head - a makeshift weapon. Byleth too readied her blade before they finished their descent to the landing below.

Their vision uponed up to a dimly lit room with a low, curved stone ceiling. There was a single lit lantern sitting on a simple wooden table to illuminate the space. Haphazardly spread beside the lantern were large slips of paper with neatly geometric shapes that Byleth could not fully make out - but would guess were the missing plans of the grounds. The back of the room was shrouded in shadow, masking the true depth of it. Opposite the table were two immobile bodies laid over old quilts, their hands and ankles tied with rope. Byleth continued to scan the room while Mercedes kneeled to check the pulse of Miss Flayn and this unknown girl. A nod to her friend said that they were both alive. In a quick glance Byleth could not see any obvious injuries done to either of the victims. Had they been drugged?

“So you have arrived.” Byleth’s eyes shot up to the darkness at the back of the room. Like a demon stepping straight out of hell and into the world of the living a form simply… emerged out of it like it were a membrane. The illusion was only intensified by the black mask of a skull with horns rising out of it’s forehead. Red lens eyes that reflected the light of the lantern back to make them appear a light source all their own.

Mercedes was standing but Byleth held a hand out to keep her friend at her back, pointing her blade at the villain. Really, how stereotypical could one get? “Who are you?” Byleth demanded. “Why did you take Miss Flayn and this girl?”

The figure laughed. Byleth’s eyes narrowed. It was a low tone but - she had heard of the different tricks used to alter one’s voice. “Byleth Eisner. You ask too many questions.”

“Answer her,” Mercedes insisted. What remaining laughter there was from the masked form died when she spoke.

Instead the figure lunged forward, drawing a blade so quickly Byleth was barely able to block the attack. The power in that hand was immense… Byleth distantly regretted not keeping up with her training since coming to the capital. She planted her feet on the ground - mind racing with the knowledge that her measily parasol-sized blade would not withstand long against the true sword wielded against it.

The dark figure, clad in a large black cloak, stepped back to prepare for another swing. It slid a foot ahead of the other, taking a stance Byleth scrambled to recognize the style of-

“Stop.” Called a second voice, halting the figure quite literally in it’s tracks. “You have already played for too long.” This tone was also low but smoother than the gravel in the attacker’s - who spoke as if they were always on the precipice of a growl.

The masked person did not seem entirely pleased by this order, as she gathered by the long look it gave her before disappearing back into the darkness. It was the second voice that spoke again in a receding whisper. “Now that you have met my Death Knight, I wonder what you think of Those Who Slither in the Dark, Miss Eisner. Do tell me should we have the pleasure of meeting again.”

 By the time the police had arrived in the basement there was no sign of the figure in the mask nor of the second voice. But Byleth had expected that to be the case - and in the end she was just happy that they had found Flayn. The unconscious girl was brought into a spare room of the police’s headquarters and was just beginning to come to when Mr. Seteth arrived. Mercedes and Byleth exited the room to allow them a moment of reunion. Detective Alois was waiting to speak to them in the hall outside.

“I’m not above telling you ladies that being shown up won’t make me look good,” the Detective admitted to them in a conspiratorial voice. Then he winked, “but I wouldn’t expect much less from Captain Eisner’s child, even if I wish you would have waited for us before charging in yourselves.”

It had not occurred to her until that moment… but Byleth had hoped Detective Rengeld would not think ill of her after this. “I did not want to take the chance of them moving Flayn in case they were going to run after Manuela caught on.” She said, hoping to excuse herself enough for whatever reservation he may still have. “How is she, by the way?”

The man nodded with a reassuring smile. “Doing quite well.”

“And what about the other girl?” Mercedes asked. She had been combing her fingers through the soaked and knotted braid before beginning to do it over now.

“She came to a bit before Miss Flayn. Her name is Monika - but that is about all she can remember. There is some hope that with rest more of her memories will come back so we may find her family.” Rengeld shook his head. It was a terrible business - nor did he have to say that with amnesia that was one less witness for him to get the story from. “Both of them were drugged pretty heavily.”

“Miss Eisner? Miss Ferguson?” Seteth said, stepping out of the room.

The three turned to face him. “Is she alright?” Mercedes asked.

Mr. Seteth nodded. The bags under his eyes were still present, but there was an immense relief amidst his exhaustion. “She is, thank you.” Here he paused to gather himself. Briefly his expression returned to one of pain as he searched for the words. “I… cannot express my gratitude to you. It does not bear thinking about what would have happened had you not found her.”

“Sir, your sister is alive and safe now,” Mercedes assured him. Her voice was soft in speaking to this man years her senior. “Do not make yourself suffer more than you already have by picturing the alternative,”

“You are right, Miss Ferguson, thank you.” Mr. Seteth released the distraught breath he had been holding. With that he was able to put on a smile in straightening his posture to again face them. “In any case, she said she wanted to speak to you.”

Mirroring the sound conclusion of such a frightening situation the weather had cleared so that the image of Flayn as Mr. Seteth opened the door for Byleth and Mercedes was one of peace. Noonday sunlight poured through a window to cover her frame in a warm blanket of gold. She was sitting up in the bed, pale green hair recently brushed and face clean of the mud and dust that had littered her skin before. Apart from a few superficial scratches on her cheeks and arms she appeared to only be tired from her ordeal. Any ache or exhaustion on Byleth’s part melted away, however, when the girl smiled at them so.

“Miss Byleth, Miss Mercedes,” she greeted, holding out her hands to the both of them. Byleth took her place at the right of the bed, while Mercedes stood in the wake of the sun at the left. They each took one of her hands in theirs. “You were both so very brave. I will always be in your debt.” In the aftermath of being drugged and a kidnap victim Byleth had expected tears. Instead she found the burning strength of a star in this seemingly innocent young girl. She squeezed Flayn’s hand.

After many thanks and insistences of their own safety Mercedes and Byleth were both provided chairs to sit beside their friend. Even if she heard Mr. Seteth’s sharp inhale in response - Byleth had to ask. “What do you remember, Flayn?”

While she was not as shocked by the question as her brother Flayn did bite her lip and look down in her lap. Byleth knew it was not an easy request and hoped the squeeze to Flayn’s hand conveyed this. The girl returned the gesture before looking up and beginning to speak, if slowly. “I don’t remember much… a man in uniform took me aside when I had stepped out for a moment, saying my brother needed to speak with me urgently. I had been looking for him to ask if we were prepared to go home for the night, or if there were more duties as a host and hostess that we needed to provide. I thought perhaps something urgent had come up and this man was a messenger sent by my brother. But then there was a gloved hand with a rag and everything went dark… The next thing I knew, I was here. I have no memory of even being in the cellar that has been described to me as where I was found. Only the sensation of being cold and on a hard surface.”

Even though she was facing away from him - Byleth could see it all on Flayn’s face when her gaze moved up. It flicked in the direction Byleth knew the girl’s brother to be standing. And the twinge in her expression… it was in pain for him rather than herself. She tried to cover it over with harried assurances. “Aside from slight fatigue I feel perfectly fine though!”

“And we are so glad for that.” Mercedes too understood the anxiety that swept over Flayn. She patted at Flayn’s arm, trying to ease the girl.

“You may visit with your friends and rescuers more at another time, Flayn,” Mr. Seteth advanced to the foot of her bed. “But for now you should rest, and they should get out of their wet clothes to do the same.”

“Oh, but there is one more thing!” Flayn shook her head and exclaimed. “I would like to learn from Miss Byleth.”

“I’m sorry?” Said Byleth.

“What?” From Mr. Seteth at the same moment.

Despite Byleth’s equal query at the idea it was Seteth that Flayn looked towards. It was he that she felt needed the most convincing. “Of how to read my surroundings. I am certain that had I known better, been more aware, I would have noticed something was off about that man and not followed him so easily. Again and again Miss Byleth has shown that she has an understanding about people and situations that I lack. I would like for her to tutor me in this ability.”

“I do not know if it is something that can be taught…”

“Oh Byleth, do not be modest. Should you just learn to explain yourself more to others than you did at points this time,” Mercedes said, taking on that amused and knowing mother hum of hers, “you would make a great tutor.”

A flinch at this accusation although Byleth knew it to be true. She was not so used to having… companions alongside her when she was attempting to solve a problem. What need did she usually have to walk another through her reasoning, except perhaps at the end if it was asked of her? This ‘ability’ as Flayn put it had always made her an odd creature in the eyes of others like her. Someone more worthy of scorn or indifference than the position of ‘tutor.’

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at Mr. Seteth standing at the end of the bed on which Flayn lay. The man looked first at Mercedes, then Byleth, and then his sister where his gaze remained. Even with his infinite gratitude to them for finding Flayn he did not jump at the notion of his sister necessarily learning anything like what had made it possible. And yet he was torn, perhaps both by the imploring look from Flayn and what logic could be found in her plea.

Following a bit more silence he let out a long sigh. It may have very well been the most tired one yet - which Byleth did find funny. “Very well. The particulars can be decided later, but… I will allow this. Now may we all please get some sleep?”

The poor man was likely going to sleep for days he had been so distraught. And yet something about his words made the now three friends look at one another - and then break out laughing. Rengeld even came in wanting to know what was so funny.

“I am sorry about your parasol,” Mercedes sympathized later as they began to walk to the front gate of the monastery grounds. Byleth straightened from lengthening her underskirt down to its full length to inspect the sodden lace thing hooked over her elbow.

“I have more at home for different looks,” Byleth shrugged.

“Do they all-?”

“Have the false handle and hollow pole for my blade?” Byleth smiled. “The majority of them, yes.”

The road in sight, Byleth remembered something. She stepped aside from the middle of the walk and gently tugged at Mercedes’ elbow to stop her as well. “What were the consequences your butler spoke of, before we left?”

Mercedes would not meet her eyes. While she clearly had been expecting them to come back to the topic, it did not make it any easier. “Father was not pleased at how long we were out exploring here yesterday, especially when we were only supposed to be meeting for tea. And when I explained that we were hoping to find clues about Miss Flayn’s whereabouts… well, it did the opposite of what I hoped, which was make him believe it was a good cause… instead he said I was not to meet you again. Not unless it is at an actual social event.”

Byleth felt herself go completely still. “And if you did not listen, like when you left to come here-“

“Then he would become far more strict with me,” Mercedes nodded. Byleth was correct. “And disallow me from attending any parties which you would be attending.”

Gaze moving across her face, Byleth looked for any regret in Mercedes’ eyes. “Yet you still came with me.”

There was not an ounce of remorse to be found. “Of course I did!” The blonde squeezed her friend’s arms. “I could not imagine letting you do this alone. You already put it off by checking on my own safety.”

A deep breath, closing her eyes in the action to pull from within. When she opened them again - Mercedes was the picture of cool determination. “I will speak to father. After all of this… there is too much I want to do that is not the search for a proper husband. My wishes are important. And if father does not understand that and casts me out-“

“Then you will have a home with me.” After running in the rain and facing down a dark masked figure Byleth hoped the hand she held to Mercedes’ cheek was warm. She hoped the face of hers that was always so devoid of clear emotion showed even a small portion of what she felt. “Come and live with me, Mercedes. You may join the church, volunteer your time, anything and everything you want. I will support whatever you decide - I am certain my father will not mind. You heard yourself he did very similarly himself with a young Detective Rengeld. Just… so long as I may keep my first true friend in my life.”

There was a hitch to her voice that she could begin to feel. But Byleth pushed on regardless of it. “I will accompany you to speak with your father, should that be what you desire. I am sure Detective Rengeld would not mind being present for you to collect your things. I offer as much of my assistance as you will allow me to give - for these are all your decisions that I do not wish to take from you.”

Mercedes eyes shined with yet unshed tears. They spilled over and down her cheeks with the force of her beautiful, gentle laughter as she pressed her forehead against Byleth’s own. “I do believe I will have to stay around for a while and help this new tutoring detective enterprise of yours, my dearest friend.”

Epilogue

The butler to the Eisner household, Mr. Lindel, had a background in boxing as it turned out. He was more than happy to stand menacingly nearby whilst Mercedes retrieved her personal items from the Ferguson house. There was little reason to be of more assistance, as had been the assumption, because Mercedes felt content with only a single suitcase and one carpet bag of things. “He may sell whatever is leftover, I do not mind,” she had smiled.

Had her father expected something like this to happen, Byleth thought, when he purchased a house larger than was required? Or perhaps something of the like, anyway. Whatever the case Byleth was content to look about the room they had set up for dear Miss Mercedes. A small writing desk was sent by Flayn so that she may write to her mother still in the country.

As she surveyed the room Byleth sat on the bed, pleased by the give of the mattress beneath her weight. Hopefully it was comfortable for her friend. She was soon joined by that very Miss Mercedes. “What are you doing up here? Mrs. Foster says tea is ready. She is in a very good mood after you brought her that cake.” And yet there was little urgency in Mercedes voice nor her actions by the way she sat beside Byleth on her new bed.

“I was only seeing how the desk from Flayn fit in here,” Byleth replied. She turned to Mercedes. “It looks nice. Flayn could not have picked a better size or style for this room.”

‘It was very kind of her,” Mercedes nodded. “Did you not also receive a gift?”

Byleth smiled, retrieving the slip of paper and item from the pocket of her skirt. She handed the letter over for Mercedes to read.

‘ Dear Miss Eisner,

I hope this should prove useful to you in what schemes of yours there are to come.

Forever grateful,

Seteth Nabatean’

When she finished Mercedes peered down at the perfectly sized magnifying glass in Byleth’s hand. It was small enough to slip inside a reticule or a large enough pocket, the design of the handle simple yet elegant. Holding the glass up to her eye she found it to be quite clear. “It is not an apology for being so angry at you before, not in so many words, but in action I suppose.” She smiled.

Suddenly drowsy amongst the warmth of the afternoon sun and her friend’s presence, Byleth rested her head on Mercedes shoulder. A pleased hum escaped her lips when Mercedes gently stroked her hair. Byleth closed her eyes. “Never change, Mercedes.”

The snort Mercedes gave at that moment was not quite lady-like - but it was so real and so very her that Byleth knew neither of them would ever care. Mercedes reached a soft hand to turn Byleth’s face so she may look into her eyes. And then plant the gentlest of kisses on her lips. “We shall see, Detective Eisner.”