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The shock of seeing Seteth so raw, so vulnerable, was still catching at Byleth's heart as she hurried through the monastery. It was seething with people scurrying across the grounds like ants, each seeking the sight of Flayn's bright green hair, or the chiming of her voice. Byleth was searching too, gathering as much information as she could, her passive face a veil for a mind awash with worry for the sweet, earnest girl. Even so, she could not stop replaying that sight in her mind. Seteth had raced into her meeting with Rhea so frantically, fear and panic naked on his face. She had never seen his composure break to reveal anything more than sharp irritation; the sight of him so unguarded in that moment was burned into her memory. She may not have expressed it outwardly, but she had felt an enormous surge of compassion for him.
It was a few hours later, after Byleth had chased lead after lead to no avail, that she found it. In fact, she stepped on it. A little bronze hair clip, in a familiar antique style. As she picked it up, her soul plummeted, air fleeing her lungs. It didn't mean for certain that something untoward had happened… she hoped. But she doubted Seteth would see it that way. She gripped the hair clip tightly, dreading the conversation she knew must come. She headed first toward the kitchen, brewing a simple, soothing pot of tea, which she poured into a tall mug meant for carrying. Taking a deep breath, she strode purposefully toward the second floor offices, where she hoped she would find Seteth.
He was seated on a bench in the room adjacent to the audience chamber, his face ghostly pale, his eyes staring unseeingly at the opposite wall. He looked broken with worry, and Byleth felt a sharp, incorporeal pain in her chest at the sight of him. Taking a deep breath, she sat beside him and lay a hand on his shoulder.
"I bought you this," she said softly, her expression impassive as ever as she handed him the mug of tea. Only then did Seteth seem to emerge from his thoughts. He seemed surprised by her presence, but accepted the tea, taking a shaky sip.
"Thank you. That is… kind."
"Seteth…" Byleth steeled herself. "I found something. It may not mean anything at all, but I thought I should bring it to you." She opened her hand to reveal Flayn's little hair clip. Seteth set down the tea and took the bauble from her with trembling fingers.
"This is… F-Flayn…" he managed to choke out. Then he broke. He slumped forward, wracked with sobs now impossible to repress. Byleth froze for a moment, unsure of what to do, before wrapping a tentative arm around his shoulders. He leaned, unthinking, into the gesture, mind awash with fear and preemptive grief, unable to stop the tide of emotion breaking from him. Byleth held him closer. She did not know if she was helping, but the thought of leaving him alone in such a shattered state seemed wrong. So she stayed, and she held him. Slowly, he seemed to calm. The wild sobs became smaller hiccups, then deep, shuddering breaths. He seemed to become aware once more of his surroundings, straightening his back, rubbing the tears from his eyes. Byleth withdrew her arm, but she left a hand on his shoulder. He slowly turned his face to meet her eyes.
"I… I apologise." His voice was small and weak.
"There is no need," Byleth replied, her expression ever calm, but with the barest hint of tenderness and concern in its stillness, hinting at the depths beneath. She gave his shoulder a final squeeze before withdrawing her hand and rising from the bench. "I will keep looking for her."
"Yes... Yes. Thank you."
Byleth nodded mutely and turned to leave.
"Wait. Profess- Byleth…" She turned back to Seteth, startled to hear her name on his lips. Seteth rose to his feet behind her. His tear-streaked face was composed once more, but she could see the torrent of emotion dancing behind his eyes. "I… your kindness… It means more than I can say."
Byleth returned a small, compassionate smile, before turning once again to continue the search.