Chapter Text
“You should consider getting to know the students this year.”
They sat across each other in the advisory room within the audience chamber, where Rhea invited her to tea. It was an attempt to get close in a familial way, though, it was gradually becoming more diplomatic and professional as the minutes went by, which was partly Byleth’s fault. It was difficult for her to start viewing Rhea as family, no matter how hard she tried and no matter how much Rhea told her not to worry. Rhea was treating her kindly enough, but she was not naive enough to suspect that there maybe an underlying reason for her attentiveness. They have been getting closer, though, it was a painstakingly slow progress.
She quietly shook her thoughts away. Now wasn't the time for suspicions. She already was concerned enough over it. She refocused on Rhea's recommendation. Indeed, she usually made efforts to avoid the Officers Academy—not because she disliked the students but because they were a bit much for her reserved nature . Her last experience was about three years ago, when she made an appearance in Manuela’s classroom. The moment she stepped into the room, Byleth was swarmed with students bombarding her with inquiries about being promoted into nobility, whether they could spar with her, or how she’s ruling the nation wrong and advice on how to lead it better. For the first time, she felt pity for the royalty she once looked with disdain: Is this what they have to deal with everyday? She could feel her head ache being reminded of that experience, though, she can fondly tell that most were bright souls.
“I know,” Byleth took a polite sip of chamomile and placed her tea back down, “Perhaps I’ll try to meet them next week.”
"I do hope you mean that," Rhea pushed lightly, "those children are always a joy to be around."
It wasn’t a lie this time. There was a real excuse as to why she’s missing out this week. She promised her father to join him on a mission near Remire Village—though, it wouldn’t be wise to inform Rhea about this decision. There had been reported sightings of bandits, and they were to patrol the area to see if they attempted to do anything suspicious. It would be easier to simply eliminate the bandits on the spot, but she was aware of civilians turning to thievery because of the poverty created by incompetent nobles running the regions. Most importantly, however, it had been a while since she last had a mission with Jeralt. After being recognized as the heir to the United Kingdom of Fodlan, she and her father have been living out their own separate responsibilities. Jeralt was obliged to rejoin the Knights of Seiros and was often sent on scouting missions across Fodlan, while she was stuck at Garreg Mach having meetings with different barons and counts about the current state of the nation. Frankly, she was quite jealous of her father, being able to at least be able to venture out beyond the monastery rather than being cooped up in one building, dealing with the subject of leadership.
Rhea poured herself another cup, “I heard that Professor Zimmerman is currently off training the students in the surrounding forests.”
“The new one?” Byleth frowned. She silently hoped that they weren’t near the bandit sightings, “He sounds confident, with him feeling skilled enough to lead new students into the wilderness.” She suppressed a sigh, “I do hope he knows what he’s doing. Teaching a student in certain skills is one thing, but leading them to dangerous areas unsupervised by knights seems like a novice mistake."
“Well, it’s a good way to test his capabilities to see if he is truly an esteemed teacher worth serving the academy. I don’t expect there to be much trouble. There will be some knights there to guard the region, I assure you.” Her jade eyes lit up, “But—ah yes, there was a reason why I brought up getting to know this year’s students. The future dukes and duchess will be sharing the same graduation.”
Oh? That peaked her interest.
“All three of them? Hresvelg, Blaiddyd, and Leicester?”
“What a coincidence, is it not?” Rhea smiled, “It would be a good chance to build up relations to make your political position easier to handle.”
She nodded, that was quite intriguing, she must admit. The current dukes, or lack of some, have had political turmoil that made it more difficult for her to negotiate. A combination of corruption, decentralization, and assassinations prevented her from having an effective exchange for reform. With the rising new leaders, it may give her the potential to actually have fruitful conversations to better understand each dukedom, “I suppose it gives me a better reason to endure the students,” she brushed the pastry crumbs off her skirt and stood up, “however, I’m afraid it’s time for me to leave. I need to look over the paperwork concerning the recent insurrections that the knights reported.”
“Yes, please do,” Rhea waved a farewell and wished her off, not making an effort to question her. She made her way towards the large gates and expressed her words of goodbye towards the guards. They bowed respectfully towards her as she exited the audience chamber.
…
The sky began to blush as the sun dipped below the horizon as she returned home. The moment she landed in the front courtyard of her estate, she was greeted by a mob of eight to ten servants hurriedly, yet without an inelegant step, collecting her luggage and leading her wyvern away towards his stable. He obliged to the maids’ hurriedness, most likely being also tired near the end of the day. His emerald eyes glanced at her for a short moment before giving off a huff and proceeding to walk heavily away. She redirected her attention towards an old woman. From a distance, she could see the legs of her tiny housekeeper angrily striding towards her.
“Lady Byleth!” her voice shook hoarsely, “I told you not to fly home—now, where is your carriage?” She reflexively flinched as the woman took no reservations in patting down Byleth’s sides to check for injuries. “Knights were supposed to accompany you—your foes could have easily assassinated you and Gower, and we wouldn’t have been able to protect you nor find your body!” She shook her finger.
“Sorry, Isabelle,” she gave the old woman a curt nod, “You can’t blame me for wanting fresh air after being in a room full of nobles and government officials.” She gently swatted the woman’s hand, “Besides, flying is way faster than riding through the rocky curves of the mountains.”
Isabelle only huffed at her excuse and, in return, she gave a final hardy whack to Byleth’s side. She winced. “A message was left for you about some ‘important political issues,’” making it clear that she had no patience for listening to Byleth any longer, “It’s placed on your desk, so read it immediately. I’ll have dinner ready in a few moments. Please be a lass and tidy yourself. Be at least presentable.”
She entered her home through large oak doors as her petite senior maid scampered off into the kitchen. Despite her sharp demeanor, Byleth somewhat appreciated Isabelle’s honest roughness. It was a refreshing contrast to the formalities of daily life. Even after all these years, it was quite overwhelming, having a group of people whose sole purpose is to prevent her from doing any mundane task. She wondered if she could ever get used to it, despite how grateful she is for her staff.
Another maid helped to unlatch her cape from her shoulder armor and proceeded to stow it away. Byleth quickly made her way up the stairway towards the master bedroom. She pushed open another pair of large oak doors, displaying her bedroom, only lit up by the blue moonlight illuminating through her balcony windows. She lighted a single lamp on her desk to reveal a plain envelope placed crookedly on her table. She picked up the piece and turned it over, revealing a lavender seal stamped with the silhouette of a wolf. Realizing who it was from, she quickly opened the letter inside. She grimaced at the nickname written on the first line.
Greetings, Princess
I have made arrangements for you to go off to Remire Village without the members of Seiros noticing. Of course, Captain Jeralt won’t speak a word about you, and Alois is too dense to figure you out. So long as you don’t do anything flashy, you should be okay. I’m telling you explicitly to not be reckless. I worked hard to pull some strings to get those damn government and church officials off your back. You don’t even have to worry about the house staff going after you. If something significant happens in the mission, you have the knights at your disposal. Keep your fighting to a minimum.
Rhea has already limited contact between you and the Captain. You wouldn’t want her to completely prevent you two from meeting at all. Although she has little direct control over you, she has power over your father. I am worried about your decision, but not because of the same reasons as the others.
Sincerely,
Your Mockingbird
P.S. There is a cloak packed with your luggage. Use it to conceal yourself.
She held onto the letter fondly and glanced at it one last time before returning it to its case and ushering it away in her drawer, along with the other letters. Despite being busy in running the underground city below the monastery, he went great lengths to grant her needs. As annoyed as he sounded through the letter, she could feel Yuri’s underlying care and concern through his writing.
He knew about the actions the Church has been taking, hardly anything escaped within his notice at Garreg Mach. Despite holding no noble position of his own, he has acquired a substantial amount of authority over Abyss and has agents and fighters everywhere under his influence. It was useful to have him by her side, no doubt.
She reread the last few lines in her head. It was something that she and Yuri have already been aware of. No one seemed to know that Jeralt was even her father, and Yuri even surmised that the Church has been spreading false claims that she and Jeralt weren't even related. Perhaps it was a way to make her position more esteemed to enhance her political power, not being attached to a life as lowly as a mercenary. Or perhaps it was Rhea's attempt to distance her away from Jeralt... but for what reason? To be closer to Byleth? It left a bitter taste in her throat.
She redirected her attention towards her agenda; there were more important things to concentrate on. She needed to check everything before heading out to join her father and his knights at dawn before they head out to the village. She laid her items out on her rug.
Her cloak? Check.
Dagger? Check.
Antitoxin and Vulneraries? Check.
Emergency food rations? Check.
Her sword?
She turned and peered into the corner of her room, where the old relic rested, cracked and seemingly disheveled all over its body. She questioned whether she truly needed to bring it on the journey instead of a regular silver one. If someone were to see it and worse, recognize it, her little trip would be instantly discovered.
She sat on her desk chair for a while, hesitating to rise to fetch the blade. Ultimately she made her decision to grab the sword to set it alongside her other belongings. It rested comfortably in her hand, as if it was carved specifically for her purpose. The sword reacted immediately to the touch of her skin as it flashed a firey red in response. Her grip tightened around its hilt.
Yes... If there was ever the need to unsheathe the sword, that meant that there was a real threat to exterminate.
She nodded to herself and bent down to place the weapon next to her other belongings.
Check.