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Of all the hobbies she could pick up, gardening was the one that surprised Dimitri the most. It started as a simple overview from Dedue and turned into the Professor’s daily habit of rising early, walking over to the greenhouse, and watering or pruning her plants.
There were occasions she entered their weekly tea time with dirty knees and soil staining her shorts. Once there were a few specks of dirt splotched against her cheek and Dimitri suppressed every urge to gently wipe it away with his handkerchief “Um…Professor…” he poked his own cheek and she easily understood, wiping it away quickly with her deft fingers “How goes the gardening, Professor?” he inquired, a warmth bubbling in his chest when he noticed her eyes glint ever so slightly.
“I never knew there could be so many uses for plants besides making vulnaries.” she said before taking a sip of her tea “Dedue has been helping me learn the different methods of care for each one.”
His eyebrows perked “What type of plants are you growing?”
The glimmer in her eyes grew brighter as she began to describe different herbs, spices, and flowers she tended to and their many uses. Some used for the shampoo in her hair, others to be ground up as a paste for when her limbs ached after training, and then some to be donated to the kitchen for their meals. But what she really focused on was her care for flowers.
In all honesty, Dimitri did not care for flowers. The notion that something so beautiful wilted and died so quickly was a haunting thought, to say the least.
But he could not deny the intrigue—the joy he felt at watching her passionately talk about the process. He also could not deny the rush he felt when one day she presented him with a vase of flowers as a gift.
“What are these?”
“They’re flowers…” she blinked, sliding the vase over to him “for you.”
“Thank you, Professor.” he said instinctively before allowing a smile to take over “let me guess, these are good pain relievers or muscle relaxants?” he squirmed when she did not answer him “Are they used to brew tea? They do smell nice.”
She stared at him, shrugging and making him feel small under her gaze “I thought they were pretty. They remind me of you.”
Something wholly indescribable invaded his chest as he felt his pulse in his ears “They remind you of me?” he repeated. The shock still etched his in features as he brought a single finger to caress a baby blue bloom.
She nodded from across the table “They’re called 'forget-me-nots'.”
“Forget-me-nots?” he repeated again, as low as a whisper “Professor…” he called, his features soft “As if I could ever forget you.”
Then she blessed him with a smile, full and beautiful as the blooms gifted to him “That’s why they remind me of you.”
Dimitri had taken back what he said about not caring for flowers.
Now he counted the bouquet in his dorm to be among his greatest possessions. He even asked Dedue for advice on how to care and maximize the life span of the blue buds. He followed all the instructions to the letter and took pleasure in the way the flowers bloomed so beautifully each morning he arose.
She had also given flowers to her father for his office—cardamines, she explained when Dimitri caught her with a basket full of her harvest. He found a sense of satisfaction in the knowledge that he was the only student she gifted flowers to. It was food for thoughts that had been harbored for some time, an affection—a longing he dare not acknowledge lest it consumes his every thought.
He should not fool himself anyway.
Her smile was too bright. She was so free. And he had a mission—a promise to fulfill.
For now, he cared for the flowers as though he were caring for her.
Panic seeped in one morning when he awoke to see one of the flowers limping, a signal that the lifespan was running out. Without a second thought, he made his way over to the library and poured himself into any literature that might contain the means to preserve the gift longer. As the time for class neared, the fellow Blue Lions noticed their leader approach with downcast eyes and heavy sighs. Mercedes was the first to inquire “Is everything alright, Dimitri?”
He blinked, registering who and where the voice was coming from “Oh, Mercedes…” then it dawned on him “Mercedes!” he exclaimed, catching the blonde by surprise “Do you know of any enchantment that can preserve flowers? Perhaps freeze them in time?”
She stammered, shooting a glance over to Dedue situated behind the prince who gave her a knowing nod “Are these about the flowers the Professor gave you?”
The woman and vassal did not miss the lightest shade of pink that dusted Dimitri’s face “Answers Mercedes, I need answers.”
She giggled and the blush deepened “While I do not know of any magic for preserving flowers, I do know of another, more practical way. My mother taught it to me as a child.”
He smiled, teeth showing and all “Will you show it to me?”
Immediately as the sun rose on the following Sunday Dimitri was knocking on Mercedes’ door with the vase full of flowers in hand. She was patient with him and instructed him carefully so he would not miss a step or damage the fragile petals in any way. It was long and tedious but the healer-in-training admired the enthusiasm and concentration he showed through it all. By the end, he was rewarded with pressed flowers sealed against parchment, forever frozen in perfect bloom.
Happiness formed in him when he caught his professor staring at the accomplishment during their next tea time. Her eyes softening and her voice filled with awe “You made this?”
“Mercedes is the one who did most of the work, I merely provided assistance when needed.” he smiled, relishing in the way her fingers traced over the forget-me-nots.
“It would make a nice bookmark,” she observed.
He nodded “I was going to use it as such.”
But then she hummed, her brows furrowing as she stared intently “It’s missing something though.” without warning she unsheathed the dagger from her belt and cut a small hole near the top of the parchment. He was about to question her actions but then she leaned down and pulled a pink ribbon from her basket, a material he recognized as a headband she often wore. Wordlessly he watched her tie a knot at the base, leaving the excess to flow freely “There, now it’s a proper bookmark.”
He didn’t know why the act brought so much happiness to him. Why he was deserving of another gift from her.
She blinked rapidly, suddenly realizing her actions “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even ask. I could get you a different ribbon, I know pink isn’t very manly.”
“No!” he protested a little too quickly “It’s perfect. You’ve always had a keen eye for these things, Professor.”
She shrugged and he could swear he noticed the faintest of blushes rising on her cheeks.
A sight he would cherish as much as the flowers.
Jeralt’s passing had truly left its mark on the academy—more so the Professor, who had now lost the only family she had.
He tried his best to provide any sort of comfort. But he knew better. No amount of comfort could really help at this time.
He would see her wandering aimlessly after classes, settling at the pier and staring at the swimming fish. Multiple times he would catch her roaming late into the night, far past a reasonable bedtime. He couldn’t blame her, the actions mirrored his own after the tragedy befell his family.
She always stayed away from the graves, as though not quite willing to face reality just yet. “I’ve taken so many lives, Dimitri.” she mumbled into her teacup “Yet it is one life taken from me that hurts the most.” He could feel his heart break.
He had to do something, anything to transition her from this state. The people who took her father away were still out there, they deserved to be punished.
“Has she left flowers at the grave?” Dedue inquired while tending to the plants in her absence. Dimitri stood to the side, waiting patiently for his friend to explain further “Perhaps it is an act of closure she needs. Leaving flowers and saying some words might do some good.”
Dimitri left flowers at his parent’s grave. Said some parting words as well. It did nothing.
“Well…it is a start.” he gave in, unable to come up with any alternatives “What flowers do you recommend to use, Dedue.”
The Duscur man hummed, scanning the bed before carefully plucking three white blossoms “These are cardamines, they represent paternal love.”
“Represent?” the prince asked as his vassal nodded.
“Each flower possess a meaning. This is why beaus give them to maidens, why brides carry them down the aisle. Each contains a message.”
Dimitri wondered if the Professor knew of these messages. He remembered the cardamines from her gift to her father. His mind wandered to the forget-me-nots but he quickly dismissed it, now was not a time for his boyish crush.
Unbeknownst to him, Dedue continued talking about each flower, the prince felt shame at ignoring his friend for his own thoughts, tuning in he heard the tail end “—each culture has different meanings as well. Some believe this flower represents paternal failure instead.” Dedue said, gesturing to the cardamines in his hand.
Dimitri flinched “I’m not sure these are a good choice then.”
Dedue hummed once more, reaching down and plucking four yellow flowers “It is better if they are accompanied by these—coltsfoot.”
“And what do they mean?”
“Justice.” one word, all that was necessary.
Dimitri smiled, “perfect.”
It wasn’t difficult to find the Professor. She was at the pier yet again, her legs dangling off the side as her head hung low. Wordlessly, he joined her, hanging his own feet but never taking his eyes off her, the bundled bouquet hidden behind his body “I miss him, Dimitri.” she whispered.
“When my father died…I felt the same way. After everything, I felt powerless. Everyone showered me with stories and condolences but deep down, I just missed him. I still miss him to this day.” even if his voices haunted his every waking moment. He didn’t know if his words were doing any good, but when her eyes rose to meet his own, beautiful swirls of lavender he never wanted to look away from. Dimitri knew he made some progress “Before I came here, I left flowers at his grave.”
She shook her head “I have yet to do so.”
“I—” he pulled the flowers out “Dedue really—put this together for you. You should give them to him.”
She took the flowers and stared at them before smiling, it was a sad one but a smile nonetheless “Cardamines,” she caressed the bouquet “Dad used to love these. He kept the vase right on his desk and everything.” she suddenly laughed, the action startling him “He wasn’t smart enough to turn them into a bookmark though.”
Dimitri could feel his ears go red, clearing his throat “He loved you, Byleth.”
The way her name felt on her tongue. It was foreign yet wholly euphoric.
She nodded, still smiling though it faded a little “And coltsfoot?” she touched a petal “These mean…”
“Justice.”
“Justice…Dimitri…” the way she said his name made his heart beat anew “Would you join me…in leaving these?”
As though he could ever deny her.
The words ‘Jeralt Eisner’ reflected back to them from the stone tablet, the two figures frozen in place as Byleth clutched the bouquet to her chest. They stood there wordlessly, not caring to count whatever seconds or minutes ticked by. Dimitri was content to stand beside her until she was ready.
She moved slowly, placing the flowers on the grave with reverence “Dad…” her voice was hoarse, her hands clenched to fist “I will find them. I will find whoever did this to you, I swear it.”
Dimitri found himself making the same pledge to the late captain, adding the promise to protect his daughter. The sound of sniffling caught his attention, Byleth had yet to raise her head from staring at the stone but it was undeniable what she was doing.
Softly, he placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. The sight of her tears brought so much anguish he could not bear it. He embraced her, without reserve or thoughts of propriety, with the sole purpose of comforting the woman in his arms. He cared not for the stains of her tears nor the wrinkles her hands made as they clenched his uniform. His own limbs were securely wrapped around her shoulders, his heart leaped in his throat as he pulled away to see the tears still pouring freely.
“Byleth…Your enemies are my enemies. Your cause is my cause. I will remain at your side until the bitter end.”
She said nothing but instead wrapped her arms around him, encompassing him in her own hug before burying her face in his chest. As he stroked her hair, his vow to her rang true. At that moment, he knew that he would give everything for her. Given the option, he would never let her go.
Such a thought should have scared him but he could not find it in himself to care anymore.
Right now, all that mattered was her.
It was a foolish vow. A promise he was foolish enough to make to himself.
It all happened so fast.
And now here they are, fleeing the monastery because of Edelgard. The reveal—the attack shook them all. But not as much as the news his beloved professor had gone missing.
He could still remember his shouts echoing through the reception hall as Seteth told them.
He should have known. He should have been more careful. It was all his fault.
Everything he loves leaves him in the end.
“Dimitri.” the steady tone of Ingrid outside his door brought him back to reality. He grunted for her to enter, she had a bag slung around her shoulder “Are you finished packing? We need to get back to Faerghus as soon as possible.”
“I am aware.” was all he said, too exhausted to put up the princely facade any longer.
Her eyes darted to his desk, staring at the worn blue bookmark on the top. She reached over to touch it but he beat her to it, clutching it to him. She did not make a scene, instead, she met his eyes and asked: “Are you going to take it with you?”
His thumb brushed the pink ribbon as he contemplated. “She abandoned you,” a voice in his mind spoke. But how could he leave behind the last remnant he had of her? “You drove her away,” another sneered. Could he risk keeping it with him? For all he knew, he was about to face war. If it traveled with him it might face the same fate as her.
He was about to make a decision when suddenly four armed guards approached from behind Ingrid, catching the two nobles off guard “Your Highness.” a knight spoke.
“Yes?”
“We need you to come with us.”
He blinked, his mouth agape “What is this about?”
The knight who previously spoke stepped close, all but shoving Ingrid out the room and peering over the prince “Your uncle has been assassinated.”
Dimitri shoved the bookmark into the drawer without hesitation. Just in time as the knights locked their hold on him and dragged him out of the dormitory. Where to, he did not know.
His uncle is dead.
Dedue is dead.
He is dead more or less.
Nothing but a monster now.
A beast among the living.
The lesser of two evils.
His feet take him back to Garreg Mach. Back to her, his heart cried.
She’d been gone for five years and he was glad for it. He would hate for her to see what became of their precious school, her precious students, him. He would hate to see her face twist in disgust at the sight of him. He would hate to show her what truly lay beneath the mask all those years ago.
He hates being away from her. The loneliness inside never eased. He hates not being able to see her smile or her tears. Anything would be preferable to this misery. This pain.
The cathedral was in shambles, long abandoned since the Empire declared war on the church. A portion of the ceiling had caved in, creating a pile of rubble in the center of the praying grounds.
Stepping forth, his now single eye widened at a sight illuminated by moonlight. Growing in the rubble were three small blooms of baby blue. Identical to the ones his professor gifted so long ago.
The name of the flowers escaped him, but the face of the gifter did not.
She is alive.
She must be.
Her presence still resides here.
His mind and the voices worked against each other. One side warred with the other but his vow once again rang in his head.
I will stand with you to the bitter end.
He remained close to the flowers. Always remaining within proximity of them as he fought off waves of Imperial soldiers the new Emperor sent his way.
It began to rain after one such bloodbath, a heavy downpour that matted his hair and soaked his cloak.
Dread flooded him at the sight in the cathedral, the rain had seeped in and was now pelting the flowers “No!” he cried, rushing forth to shield them with his body. He stood over them till the rain subsided, filled with relief despite a noticeable bend in the stem. In the end, the flowers stood strong.
Just like her. His thoughts reminded.
It did not take long for rats to infest the ground of Garreg Mach. A place filled with culture, esteem, and treasures was too tempting for the vermin that dare to tread. Dimitri became aware of their presence immediately, skulking in the shadows as his prey inched in closer and closer.
“Wow they really let this place go.” one them uttered.
“Shame really, it used to be a nice place.” the other replied.
Dimitri felt his breathing halt, one of the rats zoned in on his precious flowers that he foolishly left in the open “Look, there’s even weeds growing here.”
He saw red when the rat touched it, cried out in rage when it was plucked from its foundation. The two never saw it coming, but their shouts of pain and the sound of flesh tearing was enough to alert the rest of the filth.
He cared not, his eye could only stare at the haunting sight of shattered flowers, drenched in blood, lying dead on the cathedral floor.
She is gone.
She is gone forever.
You could not protect her.
You failed her.
You killed her.
His scream was all that could be heard over the clashing of steel and the breaking of bones.
A fateful dawn.
A fateful reunion.
She was not dead, but she was haunting nonetheless.
A constant reminder of his failed vow.
She assured him with kindness, guided him with wisdom. But he knew, she could not remain around him much longer. The Goddess gifted her a second chance, she should not waste it on him.
He would only bring her misfortune.
All he cared about now was the vengeance of the dead. After that, he was sure he would join them.
It was simple.
She belonged with the living.
He belonged to the dead.
He was the lesser of two evils. And he would snuff out the other before he himself was extinguished.
As the flocks of people rallied to her call, the monastery began to liven once more. It did not surprise him, she always had the ability to breathe life into a situation. The talent to make one realize their deepest potential. She had done so with him long ago. But that time was over now.
When Dedue returned the two rebuilt the greenhouse and she reclaimed her old hobby of gardening. There were times he awakened from his stupor, just slightly, just enough to notice Dedue return with dirt scuffs on his knee plates and soil stuck to his gloves. It almost made him smile—almost. The memory of the day she rattled on about her plants, him hung off her every word.
Everything was wrong.
How did it get so wrong?
How could Claude be so stupid?
How dare Edelgard show her face.
How could Rodrigue throw his life away for a wretch such as him?
She was there. She always was. Listening to his ramblings, offering him stern words of wisdom he could not yet grasp.
“You must live for what you believe in.”
“What I believe in? Is that possible?” he stared into her now emerald eyes, the rain catching on his eyelashes “I am a murderous monster, my hands are stained red! Could one such as I truly hope for such a life?”
She never lost patience. She was a beacon of hope. She could always breathe life into any situation.
Her kind, warm hands touched his face with the utmost care. Wiping away tears he did not realize were spilling from his good eye. “You must forgive yourself, Dimitri.” her gentle whisper cut through the rain as her lips ghosted over his cheek, wiping away the tears that fell with her lips.
A sharp inhale, his hands placed over her own. The cold in the air nor the rain on their backs could hinder the warmth she radiated “Your hands are so warm…have they always been?”
She chuckled, the sound igniting something in him long since forgotten. “Dimitri, your enemies are my enemies. Your cause is my cause. I will remain at your side until the bitter end.”
She walked him up to his old room that night before she departed. He had not stepped foot in there since the guards dragged him away to his execution. To his surprise, the room was kept in good condition. Most likely a sign of good faith from his friends and comrades, each hopeful he would return to them.
A half-open drawer caught his eye, he suddenly remembered. Remembered the treasure he left behind.
He opened the drawer with a gasp, relief flooding him at the welcome sight of his beloved gift, a little wrinkled and worn but still useable, the blooms still vibrant.
And for the first time in a long time, he smiled.
Gustave was the first to make a remark “Your Highness, I do not think that marker suits you. Here, take this instead.” he offered a steely wand, a ‘book divider’ he called it.
But the prince merely shook his head “This will serve me just fine.”
The sight of her eyes lighting up stole his breath away “You kept it.” her voice filled with awe as he smiled at her. The two had resumed their weekly tea times, only instead of discussing lectures they drafted marching routes and provision requests.
Once a professor and student, now a prince and a tactician, how far they have come.
“These are for you.” her voice drew his attention from the scouting routines on the table. Handing him a vase with a mixture of purple, white, and blue flowers. The blue ones he recognized instantly, they were the same as the ones held together by parchment and pink ribbon.
“For me?”
She nodded, smiling softly “I thought they were pretty.”
He could not suppress the slight chuckle “And they reminded you of me?”
She blinked, “yes,” a blush rising on her cheeks that sent flutters of joy through him.
“Tell me, Professor,” he said, caressing a bud and sniffing it “What are the names of these?”
Her eyes grew to that familiar size of excitement he remembered, happiness emanating from both of them as she said “You know of the forget-me-nots but these are hepaticas,” she pointed at the purples, then the yellows “and these are daffodils.”
He hummed, the bouquet pleasantly aromatic “It’s funny. They remind me more of you, Professor.”
“How so?”
“They are beautiful.”
He burned the image of her flushed face in his mind, swearing to never let it fade.
He fell back into the routine from his academic days, caring for the plants with diligence as he changed the water out and added a solution Dedue made so the flowers would not lose their vibrancy. This time the actions brought forth more joy than before.
He knew the boyish crush was gone, transformed into something much more that he feared and yet embraced all at once. Voices in his mind still screamed at him, his own subconscious warned that now was not the time for such thoughts. He agreed with the thoughts but that did not hinder his affections. He still cared for the flowers as though they were her.
It was time to clean the vase now, leading the prince to the greenhouse where he spotted a familiar face. “That’s an interesting bouquet you got there, Your Highness,” Ashe spoke while crouched, taking notes on nearby noa fruits.
Dimitri’s curiosity rose as he gently removed the flowers to dump out the water “How so, Ashe?”
The sniper perked up, standing to his feet and dusting his knees “You are aware that each flower holds meaning, correct?”
“Yes, Dedue had mentioned it once. However it was a long time ago, the meanings now escape me.” Dimitri thought back fondly to the bittersweet time, to the cardamines and coltsfoot. He finished refilling the vase when Ashe approached him.
“I could tell you about these if you like?” he gestured to the ones in his possession.
The prince blinked “Please do.”
Ashe hummed, eyes squinting in concentration as he shifted his gaze from the flowers to the turning pages of his notebook, gesturing to the purple flower he said “These are called ‘hepatica’ they represent confidence and trust. Whoever gave these to you must have a lot of faith in you.”
Yes, and he did not deserve it.
“And let’s see…” the sniper flipped another page, pointing now to the yellow flower “Daffodils: respect, chivalry, and in some cases they could mean unrequited love.” The cough Dimitri emitted did not deter the white-haired man “But more often they represent rebirth. In a bunch like this, they also mean joy and happiness.”
The prince could feel his cheeks grow warm as he turned away from his friend, searching for the solution Dedue prepared to place in the water.
“Now for the forget-me-nots, the name is sort of self-implied but they have other meanings. Such as constancy or best love.”
“B-best love?” He peered over his shoulder, his friend combing through notes once again.
“Yes, or more commonly known as ‘true love’.”
“Tr—Ashe…” he took a step “Where did you learn all this?”
“From the Professor of course.”
With stealth he did not know he possessed, Dimitri gently knocked on the door to Dedue’s room, mindful of Byleth’s next door.
“Your Hi—”
Dimitri shushed lowly “I need your help.”
“What do you require?” the vassal asked with no hesitation.
“Advice. I need to pick a flower.”
Byleth knew she should have sprung for steel bars. The wood backing of the newly constructed greenhouse was cheaper and quicker to set up but powerless against the heavy rain. She needed to protect the plants. With their march to Enbarr soon, they required every herb, spice, fruit, and vegetable for the journey. It took all her energy to spread the tarps and seal them against the posts.
By the time she was done, she was soaking wet, dripping water all over the floor and freezing. A flash of white and a sudden figure at the entrance startled her, “Dimitri what are you doing here?”
He stood frozen, eye wide and soaked to the bone as well but clad in a loose fitted white tunic and black riding pants. He was also breathing heavily “I saw you from my window. Do you need any help?”
She sighed, scanning the room before turning back to him “I think…I think I’m okay.”
This time he sighed, a small smile forming “What great timing for a storm…” he said sarcastically, the smile widening as Byleth laughed.
“Indeed, the Goddess has some sense of humor,” she remarked with fondness, remembering her old companion who would surely tease her relentlessly if she witnessed the situation she was in.
“Do you think of it as an omen? A message or sign? Is this a divine warning not to stand against Edelgard?”
She looked at him curiosly “I would not expect this question from you.”
The two stood side by side now, facing the exit as the rain pelted the pavement “I am not afraid of facing her." he addressed more to himself than her observation "I am afraid of what we have at risk. With everything to gain, we likewise stand to lose it all.”
Her warm hand glided into his own, grasping it tightly and giving it a slight squeeze. His heart thundered in his chest as she said “Remember our vow, Dimitri.” a statement, not a question.
He nodded “Your enemies are my enemies. Your cause is my cause.”
She nodded in turn, moving to face him as the storm raged behind her “And I will remain at your side until the bitter end.”
His breath left him, his heart pounded in his chest so hard he could hear his pulse “I…I never got the chance to express my gratitude for the flowers you gave me.”
She turned her head to the side in confusion “Express gratitude? You said ‘thank you’. How else would you express gratitude?”
Her remark made him chuckle “No, I have something for you. Wait right here.”
“Dimitri it’s pouring rain,” she called as he darted back to his room.
“Wait right there!” He yelled from far away, hearing her laughter in the distance. He returned covered with his cloak, more to shield the gift than himself “This is for you.”
Her eyes widened, a single red rose wrapped in parchment. A piece of pink ribbon tied around it clumsily, but with great care “This is…”
“For you.” he smiled.
She returned the gesture with her own upturn of lips “Thank you, Dimitri. I shall treasure this always.”
Then he shook his head “No you see, I finally understand.”
“You understand?”
“The daffodils, the hepaticas,” he sighed longingly, taking one of her hands in his own “even the forget-me-nots. I understand what they mean now.”
Realization and shock flooded her features, her eyes as wide as saucers as she stammered “You…then this…” she was never good with words and that was on full display at this moment. Waves of emotions crashed over her that it almost became too much to process. “Dimitri do you know what this means?” she held out the rose.
“I love you,” their eyes met, the words falling from his lips “most ardently.”
A single tear escaped her, promoting him to grasp her face with his hands gently, mirroring the actions she did to him not long ago at the beginning of his salvation. “You love me?” She asked, another tear fell.
He did not trust his voice and simply nodded, pressing his lips against her wet cheek. Another echo of her actions as he dried her tears with his lips, his thumbs helping the process by wiping them away. A smile lighting both their features as they stared into each other’s eyes.
He finally spoke, his voice thick with emotion “There were times I ignored it. Came up with excuses like 'the war is too important' or 'too many lives at stake'. But I can hide it no longer. My life is my own and I am finally living for what I believe in. Through the ups and downs, you have been a guiding light in the darkness. A giver of hope, I need you…I love you.”
She smiled, her hands removing his from her face so she may hold them tightly “The same goes for me.” her smile widened “I don’t know what life has in store for us but I do know that I love you, very much.”
The smiles never faded as their lips pressed together for the first time.
It was a joyful day in Fhridiad.
The wedding of the king was an event long anticipated. There were whispers about the decorations, the bridesmaid's dresses, the bride’s dress. There were voices from the pews observing how the king stood proudly at the altar. Some swore they saw a stray tear escape his eye when the Margrave Gautier mentioned what a lucky man he is. Others took note of his posture as Duke Fraldarius sneered at the groom that he better treat the bride with care.
But all went silent as the familiar organ tune played. All rose as the bridal party made their way down the aisle.
And Dimitri’s eye was pinned on the glorious sight of Byleth, adorned in her wedding gown, long veil, and a bouquet made of white roses, daffodils, and forget-me-nots.